


If I Was Yours

by someitems, sophiahelix



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-10 10:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12909696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someitems/pseuds/someitems, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiahelix/pseuds/sophiahelix
Summary: “Yuzu is twenty-three, with so many years ahead of him, but there’s a heavy emptiness he's still processing before he moves on. He always meant to win the Olympics twice and then retire, stepping back from the circuit at the height of his strength. He did what he expected to do, left the good memories he wanted, and falling in love with Javi two years ago hasn't changed any of that. It just feels more like a sacrifice to leave than he ever thought it would.”When Yuzu hangs up his skates after the 2018 season, he knows it will be the end of an era. But it’s also the beginning of something new...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started life as a chatfic on Twitter back in May/June. After six months of editing, rewriting, and learning a lot more about skating, it’s finally a real story! (With some creative license taken about how their future careers might unfold.) We’ll be posting a chapter each day this week.
> 
> Javier sections were written by someitems, and Yuzuru sections by sophiahelix.

Yuzu doesn't look at his Olympic gold at all, the first week after he retires.

It's been in the display cabinet since February, followed by the silver medal he won in March. In some ways that seems wrong, since Worlds wasn't really the culmination of his competitive career, just a kind of hazy dream after the Olympics ended. He went through the motions and it was good enough for second, but everything that happened in Korea — the gold medal, the three new records, the perfect free skate — feel like they’re what defines him as a skater now.

He knows no one thought he'd come back so strong, after missing the Grand Prix final, and that makes it mean more somehow. He earned this gold, with more sweat and tears than he cares to think about. It was the best moment of his life so far, but he doesn't want to be trapped in it, forever looking backwards. It's time for new experiences, new challenges. He won with the best he had, but it feels like this part of his life is a room he’s closed behind him, enshrined in glass like his awards. He’s ready for the next step.

So Yuzu hangs up his last medals and doesn't think about them for a while. He settles into home life again, offseason life, still training but not with the same intensity as before. The summer ice shows start soon, and after that his world is wide open, a blank space where anything could happen.

Yuzu is twenty-three, with so many years ahead of him, but there’s a heavy emptiness he's still processing before he moves on. He always meant to win the Olympics twice and then retire, stepping back from the circuit at the height of his strength. He did what he expected to do, left the good memories he wanted, and falling in love with Javi two years ago hasn't changed any of that. It just feels more like a sacrifice to leave than he ever thought it would.

Javi is coming back, to everyone’s surprise. He missed the final in December and then broke his winning streak at Euros, and it seems like he wants to try for more, finishing on a better note. Yuzu thinks he has more than just one season left, honestly, if he doesn't get hurt. His fundamentals are good and he knows how to compete, and that might be enough if he keeps his head and hits his jumps. Yuzu being gone won't change much, with the field so crowded now, but it's one less competitor for Javi and it's nice to think of him climbing back up again. It would mean so much to him.

After that, they'll meet in the summers, like Johnny and Stephane. He's seen the way Stephane looks at Johnny, and how Johnny’s always looking away at the wrong time. It's never been right for them, or maybe Johnny doesn't know, or maybe he doesn't want to know — and after all, Yuzu only sees what he sees because he's felt it too. That quiet, steady love, waiting without hoping, held close like a small warm flame.

The tour that summer is great. He loves spending time with other skaters, without the pressure of competition, easing into this new world. It's nice to see Javi again, and things are the same as ever between them. A little more exciting than anything else; Javi smiles at him and he smiles back, his heart beating faster. He always thinks Javi must be drawn by the same bright energy as he is, the way Javi keeps reaching to touch him, but he's still with someone else and so it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

Then the tour ends, and Yuzu goes back to the rest of his new life.

There are other skating shows, as the season rolls on without him. Yuzu keeps busy. He watches the competitions, of course, and though Javi starts strong in Russia he falters through the rest of the year. Those strong, clean jumps are gone, his timing off, and Yuzu can't tell if it’s bad luck or if Javi’s just getting older. He can see how frustrated Javi is with himself, and it hurts. There's nothing he can do here in Japan except text him occasionally, and they didn't ever do it much before and it doesn't feel right to do it too often now.

Yuzu doesn't want much from Javi, except everything, and he tries not to think about what he can't have. He's home, and he's as happy as he can imagine being, here with his family again. Still skating, still making appearances, still living for the joy of performing. He won his medals, earned his retirement with hard work and years of sacrifice. He just can't win love the same way, but that's all right.

He does try a few new things. Alcohol, for one, and it doesn’t affect him as badly as he always worried it would. He goes out sometimes, and it’s nice to feel like part of the crowd with a beer in his hand. He’s cautious about it, and also about what occasionally happens afterwards, following someone to a hotel.

Yuzu’s still uncomfortably famous but there are gaps, quiet places where he can live his life. Sendai mostly honors his privacy, and when he’s in Tokyo for business, things can happen there too. He chooses carefully, always older men who are risking face as well, men who know how this goes. Men who meet his eye and share the right kind of smile, dropping a hand on his shoulder. Yuzu’s still learning this himself. It’s not much but it’s something, a piece of the adult world that Yuzu can have, even if it’s not everything he wants. Shared warmth and pleasure, the illusion of closeness for a little while.

Javi finishes off the podium at Worlds again, and Yuzu watches his face and thinks, _he's still not done_. He feels proud and sad and worried and tender all at once, the confusing jumble of feelings Javi’s always evoked in him, beyond the rivalry and the longing. He wants Javi to retire if he's ready to, or keep competing if he still loves it, and to be successful and happy wherever he is. He’s always wanted good things for Javi.

Yuzu travels a little in late spring, doing a Russian show and one in China, and then comes home to get ready for the only one he really cares about. Javi will be coming to Japan, and they'll have a few weeks to talk and laugh, for Yuzu to remember how things used to be. They can't be that way anymore, but he wants to pretend for just a little while, let himself have as much of Javi as he's allowed. To encourage and support him, tell him to come back for one more year and try to reclaim some success no matter what color the medals are. To be as good as Yuzu knows he can be.

It's selfish, maybe, but they only have so many summers left. Someday Johnny and Stephane will stop doing ice shows, looking at each other at the wrong times, and someday Javi and Yuzu will too. He knows he can't have all the things he dreams of at once, skating and family and love, but he can have this much for a little while.

*****

After his long season, Javi’s happy to be back in Japan. Shows here are fun, always well-organized and well-attended, warm and welcoming to every skater no matter how successful their competitive career. He gets to do his favorite exhibitions — the bullfighter, the aerobics instructor — and practice his short program for next year, free from the watchful, calculating eyes of judges and technical panels. And after so many years of doing shows every summer, Javi knows almost every skater who’ll be here, everyone converging in Japan like a big family reunion. He’s most excited about seeing the retired skaters, the ones he doesn’t see as often anymore: Johnny, Evgeni, Daisuke, Kanako. Yuzu, now. Especially Yuzu.

But the way things shake out, he spends most of his time with almost everybody else but Yuzu. They see each other, technically — they mess around during practice, joke and chat like normal — but they don’t hang out after the shows, or even really have a long conversation. Javi goes to dinner with a different group of people every night, and Yuzu gets pulled along to various places by the other Japanese skaters, who all love him like a brother.

It’s not until the second night of the last stop on their tour, three shows in Tokyo, that anything changes. Javi is waylaid by Yuzu as everybody’s milling around after the show, making dinner plans and arranging rides.

“Come to dinner with me,” Yuzu says. “You hanging out with everyone else, we need catch up.”

Javi chuckles. Finally Yuzu’s noticed. “Sure, of course.”

“Miki too,” Yuzu says with a warm smile, gesturing to the other side of the room, where she’s chatting with Kanako.

Javi swallows hard. He and Miki kept their breakup quiet, and he’d kind of forgotten that Yuzu wouldn’t know about it, now that they don’t train together. “Um...we’re not...we broke up,” he says, awkwardly. “So it’ll just be me.”

“Oh,” Yuzu says. There’s a long pause as Yuzu considers him, an inscrutable expression on his face. “Okay, let’s go,” Yuzu says, finally. “I know really good place. Very quiet.”

They walk to the restaurant, ducking down a little alleyway to avoid the crowds of people on the main streets. The place is a little shabby-looking from the outside, but it is quiet, and the waitress doesn’t do more than glance at them briefly before leading them to their table.

Yuzu orders for both of them, and when the waitress leaves there’s a long, long silence. It’s been so long since they’ve talked like this that Javi doesn’t really know where to start. He knows what Yuzu’s been up to, mostly, because Brian keeps tabs on all that, and even a year after retiring Yuzu still gets the rockstar media coverage. And he doesn’t have much to say about himself.

“Is it ok?" Yuzu says finally. Javi looks up at him. Yuzu’s brow is furrowed.

“Yeah,” Javi says automatically. It’s been a little awkward, but it’s still nice to see Yuzu again, even if they can’t figure out what to say to each other.

“No, I mean — ” Yuzu has that look on his face he used to get during press conferences, trying to gather his thoughts in one language and transform them into another. Javi wonders how rusty Yuzu’s English is, now that he’s in Japan full-time again. “You. Are you okay?”

There’s a lot of ways Javi could answer that question. “My skating?” Javi asks. “Or life?”

Yuzu says, "Both."

Javi's quiet for a while, thinking about that. How much does he want to say to Yuzu? As close as they were when they were training together, they never really talked about their life like this.

"When did you — " Yuzu gestures. "With Miki."

"A few months ago,” Javi says, and Yuzu makes a concerned face, his mouth stretching into a triangle.

"Don’t worry,” Javi says quickly, "it was coming for a while. It's sad but not that sad.” That’s the truth, basically. He still likes Miki a lot but the relationship had been fading for a while, with the time difference and how busy they both were. It was just too easy to stop talking, to go weeks without getting in touch, and eventually Javi realized there wasn’t anything there anymore. Maybe he could have tried harder to make it work, if there hadn’t been so much other stuff going on. But in the end, he didn't have the energy to fight for it, or even to figure out if it was worth fighting for.

Yuzu's eyes are soft, his expression like he's listening really hard, so Javi keeps talking. “It's been a long year. A lot of hard things." He sighs heavily. “My skating didn’t go the way I wanted it to.” He doesn’t want to give Yuzu a history of his failures this year, and it’s not like Yuzu hasn’t been following the competitions, but it feels good to admit it.

Javi won Rostelecom, but other than that it was an uphill climb, lagging behind Shoma and Nathan and Boyang, being relieved to place third. He’d been thinking about retiring in April, but when he finished fourth at Worlds he got stubborn, wanting to get a little glory back. And then the ISU had announced they were moving the Grand Prix from France to Spain this coming season, and he knew he couldn’t retire, not yet. He’d had a long talk with Brian, about careers and goals and regrets, and by the end he felt good about his decision. He’s still healthy, and when he skates clean, he’s as good as he ever was.

But that doesn’t change the fact that Javi feels like an old man now, just him and a sea of 20-year-olds, so many of his friends out of competitive skating and onto other things. He’d missed Yuzu fiercely at the beginning of the season, so much it almost hurt, but after months of nothing but the occasional text he’d mostly gotten used to it. Javi knows he has to fight on his own now, and that’s fine. He just didn’t know it would be this hard.

“I’m sorry,” Yuzu says softly. He reaches across the table and squeezes Javi's hand. "This season, it will be good. Better. I know it."

Javi's chest feels really tight all of a sudden, and he squeezes back. He's flooded with a memory of an especially shitty practice one day at the Cricket Club, when he fell on a quad toe for the fourth time in a row. He just lay on the ice for a bit after he fell, too worn out to move, until he looked up to see Yuzu standing over him, that little grin on his face, reaching down with both hands to pull him up.

It feels like Yuzu is doing the same thing now, trying to pull him up from where he's lying. He's not sure if it will work now that Yuzu is retired, but he wants it to, so badly. It's like Yuzu has this warm circle of protection around him, and maybe if Javi can get back inside it, things will be okay again.

Their hands stay clasped, and Yuzu smiles at Javi, warm and encouraging. There's not much Javi can think to say. He glances down at their hands, Yuzu’s long fingers resting on top of his own, and swallows down the lump in his throat. This is the best things have felt all evening.

The moment stretches out, longer than Javi thought it was going to. There’s something in the air that he can’t quite figure out, almost a tension between them. Yuzu’s hand twitches on Javi's, and Javi glances up quickly. Just then, the waitress comes with their food, and Javi moves away, sighing.

“Your short looking good,” Yuzu says, after they’ve dug into the food. “I missed that one.”

“Thanks,” Javi says, smiling a little. “Me too.” When he settled on skating one more season, he knew he had to bring back Malagueña. It’s still his highest-scoring short program, one of the greatest hits of his career, and he didn’t want the hassle of learning two new pieces of choreography. Besides, he wants to skate it in Spain again, where it belongs — and hopefully without the mistakes that marred it during the final a few years ago.

“See, that’s why I say you have better season next year,” Yuzu says, like it’s obvious. “You already skating short program with good feelings, you can take good feelings and skate free too.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” Javi says. He’d been excited about his short program last season, too, and look how that turned out. But Yuzu’s logic is hard to argue with. “We’ll see what happens.”

“At least you rotating all your jumps today,” Yuzu says. “I’m so disappoint I pop quad loop in finale.”

Javi rolls his eyes a little. “It’s fine. I’m sure you’ll land it tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Yuzu says, in that long, drawn-out way that means “sure, whatever.”

“It’s hard, on that small rink,” Javi says, and Yuzu nods. They talk about jumps for a while. It’s the kind of conversation they used to have all the time, back when they were training together. Yuzu gestures dramatically, trying to explain something about force and rotation, his hands flying.

Javi’s comforted by this, too. Whenever Yuzu talks about skating it makes him feel like a great skate is achievable, just a matter of the right image in his mind, the right speed on the ice. And Yuzu’s especially lively tonight, or maybe it’s just that it’s been so long since they’ve had a conversation like this. Whatever it is, he seems lit up, vibrant, his gaze intent on Javi’s face, like he’s absorbing every one of Javi’s expressions.

When the waitress comes back with the check, Javi tries to figure out what comes next. Rehearsal is early tomorrow, so they can’t stay out too late, but if they just leave now, it feels like Yuzu's going to fade back into his solitude again and leave Javi all alone.

Javi doesn't want that, so he says, "Walk around with me for a little while?"

Yuzu gives him a weird look. “We don’t have to go anywhere busy,” Javi says, suddenly envisioning Yuzu surrounded by fans. “Just so we can hang out more.”

“Okay,” Yuzu says.

They step outside onto the little street. The night air is unusually chilly, and Yuzu's just wearing a thin t-shirt so he starts shivering a bit. Instinctively, Javi takes off the leather jacket he's wearing and drapes it over Yuzu's shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

He doesn't even think about it, it's just automatic, but Yuzu gives him this long, significant look as he says "Thanks." Like it means something it wouldn’t have when they were still training together, like Javi hasn’t always been taking care of Yuzu.

Yuzu pulls the jacket closer as they walk. There’s barely anyone else around, and they stick to the side streets, taking a roundabout, meandering way back to the neighborhood with their hotel. Javi gazes at the neon signs, the dark windows of shops that are closed. It’s quiet between them again, but a companionable kind of quiet, like they don’t need to talk. They’ve said most everything already.

Yuzu’s been getting closer and closer to Javi as they walk, and his hand brushes against Javi’s suddenly. At first Javi thinks it's an accident, but when their hands brush a second time he glances over, and sees Yuzu watching him out of the corner of his eye.

Javi’s made this move before himself, rubbing up against someone like a cat to get them to touch you, but he doesn’t understand why Yuzu can’t just touch him, if he wants to. Yuzu didn’t have any of this hesitation earlier. But then Javi thinks about it a little — the look on Yuzu’s face when Javi put the jacket on his shoulders, the weird almost-tension at the restaurant, the question about Miki — and realizes, oh. Yuzu has _feelings_ for him, something more than just friendship.

Javi’s head swirls. He’s never asked himself if he has feelings for Yuzu, never had a reason to think about the question. But Yuzu looks really good in his jacket, small and elegant, and it's not like he _doesn’t_ want to hold his hand, so — he reaches out. Their fingers twine together. Yuzu lets out a little sigh and squeezes his hand, almost too hard, like he's afraid Javi will let go.

They keep walking along, a little slower now, darting glances at each other every so often. Javi tries to figure out what should happen next. He doesn't want to push too far before he knows what he wants. But if he lets go of Yuzu’s hand and they go back to the hotel like nothing happened, Yuzu might think he’s not interested, instead of just confused. It’d be easy for them to finish the show tomorrow, go back to their lives, and never speak about this again. Javi wants to leave the door open for something more, just in case.

No one else is on the sidewalk, so he stops walking and turns to face Yuzu, who looks at him hesitantly but expectantly. He reaches out with the hand that isn't holding Yuzu's and cups Yuzu's face, stroking his cheek lightly with his thumb.

That feels normal, which is probably something he needs to look more closely at, why it's so natural to be this way around Yuzu. But right now, Yuzu has his eyes closed, so Javi gathers all his courage, leans in, and kisses him gently.

When he pulls away Yuzu looks really overwhelmed, like he’s just broken another world record, so Javi kisses him again to calm him down, and then again because it's really, really nice. Yuzu tastes faintly of salt, from dinner, and his lips are delicate underneath Javi’s. It feels like a purer form of communication, kissing like this, a connection that requires no translation. Just Yuzu and Javi.

He pulls away to check in and...is Yuzu crying? Javi reaches up and brushes a little wetness from under Yuzu's eyes.

"I’m not crying,” Yuzu says emphatically, which means he was definitely crying. Javi strokes his cheek some more, soothingly, reveling in the feeling of Yuzu’s soft skin. Yuzu’s eyes are huge, an expression on his face that Javi can’t quite figure out — amazed, tender, maybe even a little scared. He reaches up to hold Javi's wrist, keeping his hand on his face.

“Do that again,” Yuzu demands, his voice breathless but firm.

"Okay," Javi says, and leans back in, pulling Yuzu closer to him. Yuzu lets go of his hand, finally, but only so he can wrap his arms around Javi’s neck, fingers curling in Javi’s hair. They kiss slow and deep, a current of electricity running between them, pressed together so close they can feel each other's hearts pounding.

Javi's so into this. He can’t believe he never thought of kissing Yuzu before. Yuzu’s mouth is warm and firm, and he rises up on his tiptoes as they keep going, putting his whole body into the kiss. Javi twists his fingers into Yuzu’s soft t-shirt, trying to bring him even closer.

All of a sudden Yuzu pulls away a little, turning his head to the side and panting. Javi thinks he's just out of breath, but then Yuzu makes a noise like he's been punched in the stomach, burying his face in Javi's shoulder. He's trembling against Javi, shaking more than he was before Javi gave him the jacket, and shit, maybe he's crying again? Javi can't tell. He strokes Yuzu’s back a little, feeling his shoulders shake.

Yuzu lets out a long sigh, lifting his head slightly. “Finally,” he says, voice choked and faint but triumphant. “I wait so long—” He trails off, clinging to Javi a little tighter, and rests his head gently back on Javi’s shoulder.

Javi freezes, the motion of his hand stilling. What does Yuzu mean, _finally_? Nothing’s really happened. They’ve only been hanging out for a couple hours. And even if Yuzu has been into him for a while, he wouldn’t sound like that just from a little kissing.

Javi knows Yuzu — he’s emotional, sure, but he’s not emotional for no reason. The last time Javi saw Yuzu like this, he’d just won in Pyeongchang and was hugging everyone he could find, hoarse and teary with joy. Since when are a couple kisses the same as winning Olympic gold?

Javi thought he knew what was happening here — Yuzu liked him, was into him, wanted to see how he felt about that. But he realizes, with a jolt, that he’s underestimated the depth of what Yuzu’s feeling, of what Yuzu wants. There’s so much more going on here than he thought.

The whole evening flashes in front of Javi’s eyes, everything falling into place. Yuzu’s been nervous, sure, but whenever Javi’s given him an opening, Yuzu’s taken it. Whatever doubts there are between them are all on Javi’s side. Yuzu is sure of his own feelings, ready to act on them with the full force of his determination. _This must be what it feels like to be a triple axel,_ Javi thinks nonsensically.

He shivers, suddenly afraid that he's gone too far before he knows what answer he can give. He knows Yuzu. Yuzu gives his all from the depths of his heart, and whatever he gives is beautiful, strong and clear and true. And anything Javi's realized tonight — that he’s into Yuzu, that he likes kissing him, that he wants to do it more — pales in comparison. He’s too afraid and too overwhelmed to name whatever vast, intense emotion has Yuzu in its grip. But it’s clear that "I wouldn't mind seeing where this goes" isn't going to cut it.

It’s happened too many times before — Yuzu throws his whole heart onto the ice, and Javi's response is a perfectly adequate skate. He can't get away with that here. If he can't give everything to Yuzu he shouldn't give anything, and he doesn't know if he can yet.

Except so much kissing has happened already, and Yuzu's arms are still tight around him, and Javi's afraid if he lets go Yuzu will fall over. Yuzu nuzzles his face into Javi’s neck, and Javi feels the soft, ticklish pressure of Yuzu’s lips. He squirms a little, and Yuzu giggles, clinging to him. Javi has to stop this.

"I have to go to bed," he says, and Yuzu says, "No you don't,” voice muffled by Javi's shoulder.

"You have to go to bed,” Javi tries. "We have to skate tomorrow."

Yuzu snorts, lifting his head to roll his eyes at Javi. He must see some of what Javi's feeling in his face, because his expression shifts from mocking to concerned, probing.

"It’s okay," Javi says quickly, and hopes that doesn't turn out to be a lie. "I’m just tired."

Yuzu's taken his arms away from Javi's neck and he's backed up a little, so he's further away than he has been since they started kissing. Javi reaches over to stroke Yuzu's arm briefly. "We’ll see each other more tomorrow," he says.

“Okay,” Yuzu says, reluctantly.

"Tomorrow," Javi says. "Can we...can we go to dinner again tomorrow night? Just you and me."

"Of course," Yuzu says. He hesitates. “You go sleep, I want to walk more.”

“Are you sure?” Javi asks. “I don’t want to leave you by yourself.”

Yuzu huffs. “I can walk myself. Go rest, I see you tomorrow.” He starts to turn away, then swivels back abruptly. "Your jacket."

"It’s yours now," Javi says. "Keep it."

Yuzu grins, looking happier than he has since they stopped kissing. "Okay,” he says. "Sleep well."

"You too," says Javi, then turns around to trudge to the hotel. It’s not far — he can see it from here — but it feels like miles away. 

*****

Yuzu wanders around for a while after Javi leaves, thunderstruck. He doesn’t want to go back to the hotel and risk running into anyone he knows right now; not the way he feels, like he's hardly even real. The streets are deserted this late and he keeps walking, the way he never usually can. Nobody in his face or taking pictures, just him and his thoughts.

He pulls Javi's jacket close around him. It gets cold in Madrid, Javi once told him. It's funny, because cold is never something Yuzu associates with Javi, even after all their time in Toronto together. Javi is warmth to him; hot nights, bare arms, sleepy eyes. He breathes deep, inhaling the scent of the leather and the cologne Javi was wearing. Whenever he smells that, he thinks, he’ll remember what happened tonight.

Javi kissed him. Everything that was in his head, a dream or a fantasy, was real at last. Javi pressed against him, laughing and warm. Javi's hands on him, wanting, and his sweet kisses. Yuzu feels a little dizzy just thinking about how much it all was, to be that close to Javi and feel him giving back, the way Yuzu’s wanted for so long.

_I’m in love with Javi_ , he finally told himself last year, just after the Olympics, and it was like a light breaking. He’d felt that way for a long long time. Everything that followed after that was natural — to step away from Javi, like he was stepping away from skating. To go home and hold his love close to himself, like a precious treasure. There was something romantic in withdrawing, but at the same time it never felt real, as though his love was a book he'd put on the shelf, or a medal kept safe behind glass, reminding him of another life. He was defined by not doing anything about it.

Javi, here, with him, was so _much_. The heat of his hands on Yuzu’s face, and the softness of his mouth, the way he tasted. Yuzu is familiar with Javi’s body, the muscular grace and power of him, but he wasn't really prepared for all that. He was overwhelmed just holding hands, and when they finally kissed it was like glass shattering, so clear and thin he hadn't even known it was there between them. Yuzu was left gasping in the light and air, feeling the reality of Javi's arm around his waist, lips at his jaw. So much he never knew to ask for.

His eyes are wet again. He rubs at his cheeks, trying to bring himself back down. This feels like when he won gold in Sochi, or broke his first records; too much and too big to take in, to believe it's his.

Except — Javi's not his, not yet.

Yuzu's used to reading between the lines with Javi, following his expressions and gestures as much as his words. Sometimes they don't line up with what Javi's saying, the words that go too fast, but Yuzu thinks maybe he understands him better this way. He knows what Javi really means.

He stops for a moment, pressing his hand on his cheek, as the last half hour comes all the way clear. The way Javi pulled back suddenly, his gaze sliding away. How he didn't say much at the end there, escaping back to the hotel with the excuse of the show. How he didn't kiss Yuzu goodbye.

Javi isn't ready to give everything that Yuzu wants. Maybe he never will be.

Yuzu squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head, furious with himself. This wasn't the plan. It's just — the show happened, and he found out Javi was single now, and things got out of hand. The dinner together, and the emotion in Javi’s eyes as he talked about his career. The walk after, when Yuzu had the sudden impulse to push things, reaching one more time, because he couldn't go his whole life without knowing what might have been.

So he stumbled a little closer to Javi, letting their hands brush together, daring. Just to see. And even though Javi kissed him with such passion that Yuzu doesn't think he made a mistake, he can't forget the look in Javi’s eyes just now, or the anxiety in his voice. Yuzu wants so much from him, too much; not just a summer hookup. He wants everything.

So he has to straighten this out now, put it to rights. He doesn't want it to be awkward tomorrow, for Javi to fade from his life, just because Yuzu pushed too far. Their friendship matters more than anything, and he’s never wanted to risk it. Even if he's not skating anymore, even if they don't train together, he'd rather be Javi's friend than have nothing.

Yuzu takes out his phone. He has to look up a bunch of words, because his written English was always bad, and it's late when he gets it right.

_Sorry to push you tonight. I always want to be a friend. Let's forget it! See you tomorrow. Love, Yuzu_

He hesitates over the _love_ , but he hopes Javi will get it, and not feel weird. They've always been close, and maybe they still can be.

Yuzu puts his phone back in his pocket and walks to the hotel, slowly. It feels like he's returning to his old, narrow life, a life that was happy before he knew how much more could be in it. He’ll just have to find that again, somehow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the encouraging comments! We're really happy you guys are enjoying it so far.

Javi's walk back to the hotel is a blur. His mouth still tastes like Yuzu, and his heart is still pounding from their goodbye. He's pretty sure that Yuzu picked up on his hesitation, because he's perceptive like that. He feels like an idiot, for letting them both get into that situation, just because he didn't want to be alone and he missed the old days.

But. But kissing Yuzu was so good, the best thing that's happened to him in a long time. His body is still tingling a little, the aftereffects of the electricity that was flowing between them, and even if it was a bad idea, he can’t bring himself to regret it.

Javi thanks his lucky stars that no one's hanging around the lobby, except for Nobu, who's talking on his phone and just waves a quick hi. Once he gets into his hotel room, he flops down on the bed with a big sigh. Just for a little while, he lets himself drift, picturing Yuzu’s body pressed against his, the warmth of their kisses, chasing the hot bloom of desire even as it fades. He thinks about doing something about it, but he’s starting to get tired, laying there, and he mostly just wants to go to sleep. Except — Javi forces himself to sit up with a groan — except he has to sort out his feelings, before he sees Yuzu again.

Okay, some of his feelings aren't that complicated: he likes Yuzu, he likes being with Yuzu. They always have fun together. Yuzu's cute, in the way that makes Javi want to take care of him and also in the way that makes Javi want to kiss him senseless. And this would be fine if Yuzu were a guy he'd met at a bar or something, but of course it's more complicated than that. Nothing’s ever easy with Yuzu.

Javi wonders when Yuzu started feeling so deeply about him. _“I wait so long,”_ he’d said. Did that mean he’d had these feelings for years? If he'd been looking for it, could he have picked up the signs, seen Yuzu had feelings for him before they got so strong? Maybe they could have gone on a date, or talked about this sooner. Maybe Javi's feelings could have grown along with Yuzu's.

But instead Yuzu’s already so far ahead of Javi, his feelings strong and firm with no room for wavering. Javi was too scared to think about it earlier, but he knows, deep down, what it is Yuzu feels for him: love.

And what is Javi supposed to do in the face of that, exactly? He’s nowhere near love. As far as he knows, he’s never been in love with anybody. He’d told Miki that he loved her, but everything had faded so quickly and so easily between them. If they’d really been in love, wouldn’t it have hurt more, been messier? Maybe he’s just not serious enough for all that.

Even if Javi could, by some miracle, fall in love between now and tomorrow morning — even that wouldn't fix things. Yuzu's not competing anymore. They don’t train together. On any given day they’re about a million time zones away from each other, and even when they’re not they can barely talk to each other sometimes. There's something here that feels insurmountable to Javi, like he’s trailing by twenty points going into the free skate.

Yuzu's always doing this, he thinks almost bitterly. Yuzu soars ahead with ease and then expects Javi will be able to catch up. Yuzu's always acted like it's easy for Javi to reach his level, when any rational person could see it's hard. Javi's a good skater, he’s had success, but he’s never even touched the kind of greatness Yuzu’s achieved. And yet when Yuzu retired he seemed to think it would free up space for Javi to be great too, that all Javi needed to win more gold medals and land new quads was a little breathing room.

“I don’t mind if Javi break my records,” Yuzu told him after the Olympics, grinning cheekily, and Javi had chuckled, too stunned that Yuzu thought this was a possibility to come up with a better reaction. He can't really resent it, it's unbelievably generous and sincere of Yuzu, but he just can't come up that far, not in skating and not here.

He’s just not good enough. It is what it is. His stomach churns as he thinks of Yuzu teary-eyed just from kissing him. There’s nothing in him that's worth that reaction.

Javi's phone buzzes and he digs it out of his pocket reluctantly. It’s a text from Yuzu. A cold wave washes down his spine as he reads it. Yuzu had picked up on the hesitation, after all. He’s giving them both a way out, a way to get back to normal and pretend none of this ever happened.

And for all Javi's fears and doubts, part of him doesn't want to take it. Now that they’ve opened the door to feelings beyond friendship, he wants to give this a chance, see where it leads. But it’s hard to ignore the nagging little voice in his head reminding him of all the problems, all his own shortcomings. There’s really only two ways Javi can see this going: either he tries hard and gives it his best and maybe still breaks Yuzu's heart and fails him, or he just lets it be and doesn’t try to be anything more than friends. As nice as kissing Yuzu was, going back to the way they were before seems easier, less fraught.

He stares at the text until his eyes blur. Finally he types _it's ok. still friends. see you tomorrow_

If Yuzu wants him to be normal, he can be normal. That’s at least achievable, probably, unlike a lot of other things. When they have dinner tomorrow, they can just talk about skating again, or something. It’ll be fine.

"It’s fine," Javi says aloud, trying to dispel the sudden heavy feeling in his chest. His phone buzzes again, and his heart jolts.

But it isn't Yuzu — it's two texts from Brian. _don't forget to ask Y if he wants to come help @ clinic next month_ , the first one reads. Javi had forgotten, because he figured it was a lost cause — why would Yuzu want to fly all the way to Toronto to assistant coach for two weeks? He’s probably got plans already.

The second text from Brian says, _I know clinics aren't his favorite but if you asked him to I think he might do it_.

Javi feels like he should be annoyed by this, like he's bait to get Yuzu to do something for Brian, but instead he feels a glimmer of hope. If he gets to see Yuzu one more time this summer, maybe they can start from the same level. Maybe they could work their way up to big feelings together, get over some of these obstacles, figure out something real. Maybe he has a little chance, after all.

_i won't forget!_ he texts Brian, and then rolls over and shuts his eyes, hoping to sleep.

Javi wakes up with the same heaviness from the night before lodged in his chest. His eyes feel heavy, too, like he didn't sleep enough.

_Just act normal, it’ll be fine_ , he thinks to himself all through getting ready and eating breakfast and heading out with the other skaters. Everyone else seems to have actually gotten sleep and they're all talking and laughing, too loudly for Javi’s tired ears. Javi makes small talk with Stephane on the way over, minor stuff about flights and past ice shows, only half-listening to Stephane’s responses.

At the rink in the performance hall they mill around on the ice, waiting to start, and Javi glides over to Yuzu, since he hasn't said hi yet.

_Be normal,_ he thinks, and says "Hey you," leaning over to sling his arm around Yuzu's shoulder.

Yuzu says "hey," but he also moves away, just a little, out of Javi's reach. Javi isn't sure what to do, so he crosses his arms awkwardly.

"How did you sleep?" Javi asks.

“Good,” Yuzu says, a little too quickly.

There’s a commotion just then as the rehearsal gets going in earnest, saving Javi from having to think of something else to say. They take their places and run through the cheesy opening and closing choreography, set to a pounding bass beat Javi's starting to hate. He gets through it by watching Yuzu and Johnny, who genuinely seem to enjoy it, although Yuzu's a little subdued this morning.

Then it's a lot of standing around and waiting as the tech crew check lights and sound and other people run through their bits. He ends up by Yuzu again, which is definitely normal, because sometimes it's like they're attached, coming to rest naturally next to each other. Yuzu's sitting on top of the low boards off to one side of the rink, his legs stretched out onto the ice. Javi plops down next to him, stretching his own legs out so his left foot is almost touching Yuzu’s right one. He tilts his head to rest it against Yuzu's, except Yuzu moves again, so Javi ends up with his head on his own shoulder instead.

Now Javi's a little pissed, because what happened to normal? If that's what Yuzu wants, that's what they should do, but this isn't normal. Yuzu's definitely being weird, and noticeably so. He turns to try and say something, since no one else is within earshot.

But then he thinks about it, their normal, back when they still competed together. Leaning on each other all through practice, listening to Brian with their arms around each other's shoulders. The hugs and quick comforting touches that were second nature to them, given and received a hundred times a day. Skating hand in hand, ruffling each other’s hair, tickling and shoving and nudging. There isn’t a figure skater in the international scene that hasn’t teased them about it, but everyone knows: that’s just how Yuzu and Javi are.

But things are different now, because they kissed last night, and all that touch would just be a reminder, Javi realizes. Yuzu's trying to keep them both from thinking about the kisses, and Javi's an idiot, once again, just thinking about himself.

He runs his hands through his hair, frustrated. "Sorry," he says to Yuzu.

Yuzu shrugs. "It’s okay."

There’s a long, strained silence. Javi stares down at the ice, etched with lines and divots. “Practice for the opening was good,” he finally says, desperately.

“Yeah,” Yuzu says, flatly. Javi looks up to see him pursing his lips, mouth drawn into a line. There’s another silence. After a little while, Yuzu stands up, stretching his arms above his head. “Going to go skate little more,” he says, and glides off, leaving Javi sitting on the boards by himself, with no idea what to do now. Eventually, he gets up too, and starts skating laps around the rink, taking care to stay well back of Yuzu.

Practice finishes up and they all head back to the hotel to get some food and relax before the show. Javi takes a nap and dreams that he's on an enormous sheet of ice, and Yuzu is skating away from him, little by little. He wakes up feeling worse, somehow, but he shakes himself. He’s got to have a good show.

And the show is fun, once he gets into it. The energy of the crowd is like a wave, pulling them all along, even with the cheesy music. No matter how many ice shows he does, Javi never gets tired of seeing the audience so close to them, everyone’s face reflecting awe and delight back to the skaters.

The show is a mix of all kinds of things: old favorites, collaborations, new programs making their debut. Each performance feels like a link in a chain, one good skate leading to another leading to another. “Malagueña” has gotten better since the first night of the show, Javi shaking off the rust, and tonight he feels satisfied with how he skates it, letting himself enjoy the cheers when he finishes.

When it comes down to it, it almost doesn’t matter. They’re all just the opening act for Yuzu. When he skates out halfway through for a watered-down version of “Let’s Go Crazy,” the crowd roars before he even starts. They love him still, and it doesn't matter if he's not winning medals anymore. He’s still their champion, their hero.

Right before the finale, Yuzu comes out one more time, to skate "The Final Time Traveler.” The cheers and howls when Yuzu’s name is announced are hushed almost instantly as the lights come up, revealing him in his blue flowers with his head tilted delicately towards the ice.

Javi's standing right at the edge of the rink, in the darkness, waiting to lead everyone out for the finale, and he watches, transfixed. Yuzu's always skated this program skillfully, embodying the longing of the song's lyrics, but it seems even more yearning tonight, somehow. Every gesture, every flourish, feels laden with meaning to Javi, like Yuzu's saying something deep and true.

The spotlight catches on Yuzu's glittering costume, lends a soft glow to his face. He's mouthing the lyrics, caught up in the music. Javi's heart leaps into his throat, and for four agonizing, glorious minutes, he feels it: the same love Yuzu feels for him.

Then the music stops and the crowd roars, leaping to its feet, and Javi comes back to himself with a start, the spell broken. He shakes his head, to clear his thoughts. It was just a skate. This is just what Yuzu does. It’s where his truest talent lies. Javi's probably projecting, anyway, just imagining the beauty of the routine had anything to do with what happened last night, or with Yuzu’s feelings about him.

He has to be normal, he reminds himself as the finale music starts and he rushes out onto the ice. Nothing has actually changed.

The skating Javi does in the finale is probably some of his worst ever, but it's not like the audience cares, at this point. Somehow he gets through all the bowing and waving and flowers thrown on the ice and posing for pictures with fans. Finally they're all backstage, taking their makeup off and getting back into street clothes, laughing and chatting as the adrenaline wears off.

Javi takes a couple deep breaths to steady himself before going over to Yuzu and tapping him on the shoulder. Yuzu turns around.

"Dinner?" Javi asks.

Yuzu nods. “One second," he says.

Javi waits, trying to think of normal, innocuous things to say during dinner. It’ll be fine. It has to be fine. It was weird today but it'll get less weird as they go on. They’ll find new ways to be friends, and this feeling Javi has, like he wants to sweep Yuzu up in his arms and carry him away — it was just that routine. It’ll pass.

He takes another deep breath and follows Yuzu out of the building.

They go back to the same restaurant they were at the night before, which makes Javi feel a little better, like they're pressing a reset button. They’re the only people in the restaurant, and the waitress mostly leaves them alone, so there’s a silence around and between them, but it’s not as awkward as Javi thought it would be. Some of the tension from earlier has dissipated, because they're worn out and hungry and it's too tiring to keep analyzing every interaction. Javi just wants to sit and eat and hang out, and he thinks Yuzu feels the same.

When the food comes, they start in on it eagerly, stuffing themselves. Javi racks his brain for conversation topics while they chew.

“The show went great, don’t you think?” he says after a while.

Yuzu nods vigorously, a mouthful of rice bulging in his cheek. “Mhm!” He swallows. “Everybody skate so well!” He smiles warmly at Javi, and something eases a little in Javi’s chest. “I see little bit of your short, it was good.”

“Thanks. You were good too, your last program was so beautiful.” Javi doesn’t trust himself to say more, but it doesn’t feel right not to acknowledge it. Yuzu’s skating demands appreciation.

Yuzu waves off the compliment. “I was feeling little tight, so landings were…” He grimaces. “But everybody seem to like.”

“The audience was really excited about everything,” Javi says. “I snuck out to watch Shoma’s short and I almost got hit in the face with somebody throwing flowers.”

Yuzu snorts with laughter. “Poor Javi, almost die.”

“Hey,” Javi says, pretending to be offended. “It was worth it, though. He’s going to be hard to beat next season if he skates like that.”

“I can’t believe he skate to anime song,” Yuzu says, rolling his eyes. “Being World Champion going to his head, I think.”

“At least it’s better than that music from the opening number,” Javi says.

“Opening number is best part!” Yuzu says indignantly. “Javi just have no taste.”

“You just like it because you get to show off,” Javi teases, and Yuzu sticks his tongue out at him. It’s all so normal...almost too normal. Like the past two days never happened. If it weren't for the fact that Javi's down a jacket, he might be tempted to think it was a dream: the handholding, the kisses, Yuzu crying.

It’s ironic, because the point of all that was to leave the door open, to see if there was a way for Javi to get to where Yuzu is. But the opposite happened, because Javi did it the wrong way, and Yuzu's shut the door, emphatically. Now they're just friends again, and whatever Yuzu's feeling he'll keep to himself, and they'll go along like they used to.

And that's fine, it really is. It has to be. If something happens later, it happens, but Javi’s not going to risk their friendship on trying to make it happen, especially since he doesn’t even know what he really wants. Yuzu said “forget it,” so that’s what they’ll do.

Javi studies Yuzu’s face for signs of pain or discontent, but he can’t find any. Yuzu’s eyes are warm, his expression fond. For someone who cried as much as he did yesterday, he seems remarkably fine with just being friends. Maybe Javi’s been overthinking this.

"Go on," Yuzu says, smacking Javi's shoulder lightly. That touch from Yuzu, playful like before, shakes Javi out of his thoughts. He startles, realizing he's stopped talking, then grins. He should get out of his own head and enjoy this time, because if Yuzu doesn’t want to do the clinic, they won't see each other for a while.

Javi can't pick up the thread of the conversation before, so he just pulls out his phone and shows Yuzu pictures: the new lounge in the Cricket Club, views out of plane windows, dozens and dozens of shots of Effie. Yuzu makes little squeaking noises as he watches a video of the cat stubbornly refusing to get out of Javi's suitcase, and replays it again as soon as it stops.

While Yuzu's holding the phone it buzzes, and he gives it back to Javi with a puzzled expression. "I think Brian says something."

What Brian says is _don't forget!!!_ , so Javi bites the bullet. "Brian's doing a clinic in Toronto for two weeks next month and I’m helping him out with it. Like the summer camps I’ve done before, except a little more intensive. He told me to ask you if you want to come help too."

Yuzu's quiet, maybe thinking, maybe not understanding. “Do you want to come help in Toronto next month?" Javi asks again. He looks right into Yuzu's eyes. "I want you to. Please come."

There’s a long silence, and the question hangs in the air. Javi's whole body tenses up as he waits for Yuzu to answer. Now that he's asked, he's overwhelmed with how much he wants Yuzu to say yes. Something’s been missing at the Cricket Club ever since Yuzu left, and Javi’s heart aches with longing, picturing Yuzu back on the ice next to him. He’d be so helpful for the clinic, too. Yuzu’s great with kids, attentive and encouraging with a smile for everyone, and kids love him back.

Working with him would be so good, but maybe Yuzu doesn't see it that way. He might just be thinking of the inconveniences: interrupting his own schedule, dealing with jet lag, having to speak in English for two straight weeks. Yuzu got more used to Toronto the longer he trained there, but it was never home for him the way it’s been for Javi, and he probably doesn’t miss it at all.

The silence stretches on and Javi gets more and more nervous. Yuzu’s looking down at the table, his brows drawn together. Finally he raises his head. “Okay,” he says, slowly, and Javi’s heart starts pounding. “I have to change thing, maybe, also check with Mama. But okay. I come.”

“Yes!” Javi says, grinning, and Yuzu grins back, laughing a little. Javi's overcome with relief and happiness, a strong wave of feelings he wasn’t expecting. He just sits there, smiling at Yuzu, wanting to reach across the table and grab his hand, even — oh, even to kiss him, he realizes.

He can feel the blood rush into his face, and he coughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Let me text Brian."

_yuzu says yes!_ he writes, and Brian responds almost immediately: _great!!!!! thank you! see you both soon :)_

After he’s finished texting, it’s quiet again. Yuzu’s staring down at the table, fiddling with one of his chopsticks. “You can stay with me, when you come,” Javi offers. “Since you sold the condo.”

Yuzu’s head jerks up at that. “Oh, I can get hotel room.” He thinks for a moment, then corrects himself. “ _A_ hotel room.”

“Okay,” says Javi, surprised to find himself a little disappointed. It’s probably better this way, anyway, since Yuzu is trying so hard to just be friends. Staying in Javi’s apartment together might be awkward for him.

They decide to split a cab back to the hotel. Javi stares out the window, watching the lights of the city flash past. Some of that giddy joy is gone, because it's not like this has to mean anything. They could get to Toronto and have two weeks as awkward and strange as this morning. Javi’s feelings could stay right where they are, friendship and fondness with the occasional urge to make out, nothing close to what Yuzu wants.

But knowing he'll be seeing Yuzu again gives Javi a little hope. He’ll make something happen, surely. If he can’t fall in love, maybe he can at least build something new between him and Yuzu, figure out some way to keep Yuzu from disappearing on him again. An offseason project, like perfecting his new free program choreography. Javi smiles to himself. It’s going to be a good summer.

Once they get to the hotel, Javi leans forward to pay the driver, then gets out, opening the door for Yuzu on the other side. Their rooms are on the same floor, it turns out, at opposite ends of the hallway, and when they get out of the elevator they both stop, turning to face each other. It reminds Javi of the other night, stopping on the sidewalk to kiss, and the heat comes back into his face. It’s going to be hard to just say goodbye to Yuzu, like nothing unusual happened this week.

Maybe Yuzu feels the same, because he asks, “Do you want to meet for breakfast?”

Javi shakes his head. “I’ve got an early flight.”

Yuzu crinkles his face in displeasure, but nods. “Ok.” There’s a pause, both of them standing there staring at each other. Then Yuzu leans in, and Javi startles, not sure what Yuzu’s about to do. Yuzu’s arms come up around Javi, wrapping him in a tight hug, and Javi hugs back, relaxing into it. Just a hug, like they always do.

“See you in Toronto,” Javi whispers, like he’s saying something important. They pull apart and Yuzu flashes him a brilliant smile.

“Bye, Javi,” he says, turning to head down the hallway. “See you soon.” Javi watches him leave, smile still on his face, then turns and walks to his own room.

*****

For the next two weeks, after the tour ends, Yuzu can't stop thinking about kissing Javi.

The thing is, it was really _good_. Warm and soft, and the longing way Javi kept touching him. He’s sure Javi had never thought about him like that before, but whatever else was going on that night, he clearly liked what they did. Wanted to do it right, thoroughly. Javi doesn't alway focus hard, or stick with things he's not good at, but he was good at kissing Yuzu.

And Yuzu hates that he couldn't just be casual about it, let it be what it was without making it awkward. They could be still be friends. They don't even live in the same country. It's not like Yuzu's never had a casual relationship before; in fact it's all he's had, and it's always been fine.

But this is Javi, and it means so much _more_ than that.

It’s hard, knowing Javi could so easily dismiss this as a summer mistake and move on. Yuzu’s realizing there was always a part of him that hoped maybe Javi felt the same way, secretly. But no — Javi had his chance, and he didn't reveal some grand passion. Yuzu didn't exactly reveal his either, but Javi backed off all too happily for him to think anything else.

None of this is a change, or a surprise. He always thought it was a one-sided thing and now he knows for sure, that's all. He's lucky it didn't blow up worse than this. Javi is still his friend, and in two weeks they'll work together in Toronto, the same familiar places as before. And then Yuzu will go home, and they'll move on again.

He thinks about his feelings for Javi, how they always felt so separate and selfless. The way they gradually crept up over the years, seeing Javi so gracious during his struggles, so bright and giving when he won. The way Yuzu came to realize how much Javi needs that love returned.

Yuzu can train hard on his own, living for the unseen audience and the moment of performance, but Javi always needs other people. He's an entertainer, good at making people feel what he's expressing, but underneath he's always asking the same question: _love me, please_.

So of course Yuzu has loved him, and he wants to shift back into that feeling, giving love only because Javi needs it. Not expecting anything for himself, but just because he has love enough to give away.

He only thinks about Javi at night, when it's dark and his mind is still. In the daytime it's workouts and family, living his life again. He's been enjoying it so much since he retired, but now that Javi's come back into it, this quiet world doesn't feel so contented and safe anymore. That time with the show was good, and being with Javi was like an extension of that, being _seen_. Being touched, being real. Maybe even being loved, or the possibility of it.

But he only thinks about that at night.

The time until Toronto passes slowly, filled with things to do. He packs carefully, aware this is the first time he’ll be over there without his mother to manage things for him. Staying in a hotel room instead of the condo they used to own, eating out instead of cooking, less privacy and more responsibility. It's only two weeks, but it's a big step, and it feels like a lot.

“Are you sure?” his mother asks him one day, handing him a refill of his contacts. “I can still come with you.”

Yuzu shakes his head. He did do the tours on his own for the last year, though that's different, being herded along with everyone else between hotels and venues and restaurants. “I'll only be gone a couple of weeks. And I'm almost twenty-five, you can't look after me forever.”

She smiles at him, and pats his shoulder.

He's actually more than a little anxious about the trip, to tell the truth. For all that he’s being casual about it, he’s used to his mother being there not just to handle the practical things but for company too. They’ve always been in their own little world in Toronto, living in harmony if not perfectly in tune, and he knows it’ll feel strange to be in a hotel by himself at night with no one to talk to. He’s trying to find his own way more these days, and taking this trip is part of it, but it’s scary and new, too.

And the practical difficulties aren’t nothing. Getting around the city, managing food and laundry, speaking English all the time...and that doesn’t even touch his other worries. Whether he's out of shape or lost his edge, if other skaters will notice. Seeing Brian and Tracy again, after so long away. This thing with Javi isn't even the top of the list, when he really thinks about it.

But he’s happy to be returning to this part of his life, too. Despite what happened at the end, the show tour went really well, because Yuzu knows how to shut out everything but his skates on the ice and his body in the air, moving with the music. Skating still makes him so happy. He wants to move on to coaching someday, but for now he's still in this between space; loving to perform, being aware of the audience and the lights, sharing himself with the world. It's nice not to worry about the numbers anymore, or trying to break his own records. He likes putting together routines without worrying about components, just doing the elements where they fit the music and not where they score. He’s excited about the future, as daunting as it sometimes feels.

Yuzu wants so much, and he's not sure how to make it all work. Clinics and encouraging young skaters, seeing his family and making a calmer life, but performing too, keeping in shape and challenging himself, stretching his artistic limits. So many things going through his head, as the days to Toronto count down.

He does look at Javi's Instagram occasionally, and feels all kinds of things at his big, goofy smile. When they were competing sometimes he couldn't look at Javi too much; the beautiful curves of his body, the way his face showed every emotion. So much in front of him that he couldn't have.

Javi finally makes the top of the list of worries as Yuzu's plane starts its descent. _Meet you at the airport?_ Javi texted yesterday, and that was one more strange, new thing to navigate on this trip. Yuzu said _yes_ and sent his flight details, because he wants to be as normal as he can, but now it feels like he can't remember how they used to act or what normal even is. Javi’s never met him at the airport before. Should they hug? Javi doesn't kiss him on the cheeks like he does with other men, and Yuzu has never known if that's consideration for him or because Javi doesn't want to. Will it be awkward? Will it be the same as it used to be?

His plane ends up having to circle for almost an hour, during which time he's sure Javi will have left. The luggage takes forever to get unloaded, and someone takes Yuzu's black suitcase by mistake and he has to argue with her until she opens it, testing out his rusty English. By the time Yuzu drags himself out of the customs area, he's grumpy and exhausted and expecting to see a car service driver with his name instead.

But no. Javi is there, holding two coffees and looking like the best thing Yuzu's ever seen. Yuzu gets out of the crowd and drops his roller bag, putting his arms right around Javi's neck and holding him tight, pressing his face against Javi’s chest.

Javi makes a funny noise, wrapping his arms awkwardly around Yuzu, still holding the coffees behind Yuzu’s back.

“Bad flight?" he asks, and Yuzu hopes he's not imagining the tender note in his voice.

"Worst," Yuzu mutters. He looks up, and without thinking about it asks, "Take me home?"

Their faces are close enough together that Yuzu can see Javi's long eyelashes as he blinks. "My home?"

Yuzu wasn't even sure he meant that when he spoke, but now he does. He can't believe he really just said that, but it's too late to take it back now. He swallows, trying to act like it’s no big deal if Javi says no. "Yeah. Is that OK?”

Javi blinks again, and then he smiles, looking brave and unsure. "Yeah. Of course. I offered before. The guest room is yours."

He hugs Yuzu as best as he can with the coffees, and then steps back, untangling them. Yuzu steps back too, and reaches for the coffee.

"Thanks," he says, and winces as he takes a sip. Too milky. He's feeling awkward now, because he changed the game on sleep-deprived impulse. That's not like him at all, to act without planning, without thinking of every consequence first. Javi is still smiling, though, still standing close, so it must be OK. This is just the new normal.

Yuzu grabs the handle of his bag. "Ready?" Javi asks, and Yuzu follows him outside.

He keeps finding himself blinking out, on the trip to Javi's place. He's jet-lagged and sweaty and irritable, and Toronto has always felt strange to him, even here on the familiar train. Cars on the other side of the road, the signs in English, and how it’s not like the cities of Europe either, so much newer and more spread out. He's always felt like a visitor here, even during longer stays; keeping mostly to the condo with his mother, studying for school or playing videogames on his own. It's not his city and he's never let it be, or worked for it.

Javi has, though. Yuzu's always faintly surprised by that. Javi loves Spain and his family dearly, but he left home on his own so early that Yuzu guesses he's just used to it. It's the way it has to be for him, and he's made a life here, with friends and habits and regular places. Javi’s just like that, drawing people to him, with so much going on outside of skating. Yuzu always felt his own way was better, and he’s got the medals to prove it, but he’s not sure Javi wasn’t happier living his way.

Yuzu finally just keeps his eyes closed on the train, aware of Javi on the seat next to him but letting his mind drift. He's still shocked by what he said back at the airport, _take me home_ , so blunt and plain. Some of that was being too tired to think of a more precise way to say it in English, but he also thinks he really meant it. He’s having doubts now, especially since Javi is so quiet, but it was such a relief to just say what he really wanted, ask for what he really needed.

He’ll stay in Javi’s guest room. He won't make it weird. He can do this, and it'll be fine.

Javi's gotten a new apartment since Yuzu was last here. Higher, bigger, nicer. There's more of a kitchen and a big black leather sectional sofa, and a fancy new entertainment center too. Javi shows him the guest room, proud and a little shy. "I haven't had many people stay. The sheets are clean, though."

The whole place is cleaner than Yuzu remembers Javi's old apartment being. He never minded that, the few times he visited; it felt like Javi, with his things everywhere. Javi knows how to cook but he almost never did dishes, and his place was always a cheerful mess. Not now — things are in place, the rug vacuumed, the kitchen clean and organized.

Yuzu puts his bag on the floor and turns to Javi. "It’s nice here."

Javi flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks. Someone talked me into hiring a cleaning service."

Yuzu nods, taking this in. New Javi, older. Not more successful but maybe more secure, starting to take things more for granted. Javi never used to spend money if he could help it, even when he started getting more sponsors after his first world championship. Yuzu got the impression Javi felt like it could all end at any minute, and someone would come demand his success back. He never seemed fully comfortable with himself.

He's still not easy, but Yuzu is glad to see him taking better care of himself, doing nice things just because he can.

"Uh, you want me to order dinner?" Javi asks, breaking the silence.

"You not cooking?" Yuzu asks with a smile, and Javi flushes again.

"Sorry, I didn't buy anything for tonight — I thought we’d go out. We can shop tomorrow, if you want?"

“Sure," Yuzu says.

They order in ramen and settle on the couch waiting for it, watching a movie. Yuzu is so tired that his eyes feel like they're full of sand. He knuckles at them, watching Javi flip through channels.

Javi looks over and laughs. "Stay awake, sleepyhead," he says and tousles Yuzu’s hair, briefly.

Yuzu bursts into laughter. "Sleepy _what_?"

Javi grins. "You've never heard that?"

Yuzu shakes his head and Javi smiles at him, fondly. He doesn't say anything, and neither does Yuzu, and then that warm feeling comes back from last month, in Japan. There's so much between them, warmth and electricity, and Yuzu could kiss him right now so easily.

He wants more than just fondness or a moment’s desire, though. He coughs and looks back at the screen. "That movie looks good," he says carefully.

Dinner arrives, and they stretch out on the couch in different directions, Yuzu on the lounge and Javi lying sideways, with his head at the other end. Javi turns the lights off, which doesn't help Yuzu in his quest to stay awake until ten. He keeps closing his eyes and opening with a jerk when the TV gets loud, shaking himself while Javi laughs. “It's OK, it's just the movie.”

One time Yuzu finally closes his eyes for good, and he wakes up again much later in the dark, feeling groggy and his neck stiff. The TV is still on, playing low now, and Javi is asleep at the other end of the couch, with his bare feet resting next to Yuzu's shoulder.

Yuzu’s gaze wanders up Javi’s body, following his beautiful sculpted form to his peaceful face. Long lashes, lips a little pursed in his sleep, one arm lying across his gently rising and falling chest.

He loves Javi so much. Everything he's ever wanted, since before he even knew he wanted it; a flame that keeps burning. He's trying so hard to be good, now that everything is out in the open, but coming here was probably a mistake. He knew that already, two weeks ago. It's so hard to keep this inside.

Yuzu keeps watching Javi sleep, wanting one thing — for Javi to open his eyes and look back at him. To see what Yuzu feels, and not turn away this time. And then, like he made it come true with wishing, it happens.

Javi opens his big eyes, sleepy and slow, and looks at Yuzu with a frown, seeming a little puzzled. Like he's half-awake, and doesn't expect him or remember he's here. Whatever’s in his mind, Javi keeps looking, steady, blinking a few times. Yuzu looks back, his heart starting to race. This feels like so much, like the walls are tumbling down.

Javi shifts on the couch, getting up on one elbow, and Yuzu — moves. Like he's drawn to Javi; like he knows, somehow, that Javi wants this too. Slow, careful, inexorable, he turns to the side and moves up the length of Javi's body.

His chest brushes Javi's thighs, his belly, as he goes. His knee fits between Javi's hip and the back of the couch. His hands brace on Javi's chest, and then rest on the couch above Javi's shoulders, as Yuzu holds himself up. He's trying not to rest too much weight on Javi but they're touching all over, and their faces are so close.

Javi looks at him in the dark, just breathing. Eyes wide, scared and tender, wanting and unsure. Yuzu just waits.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Angst Chapter. :)
> 
> (It seems silly to say this, but in light of what happened on poor Javi’s Instagram post yesterday...this is all firmly in the realm of fiction and what-if, and it’s great he looks so happy.)

Ever since Javi saw Yuzu emerge from international arrivals, looking rumpled and distressed, everything he’d planned has gone out the window. He’d come up with a strategy to keep things normal, during the two weeks they were apart. Bow to Yuzu when he got off the plane, make small talk on the way to the hotel, give him enough space so it didn’t get weird.

But then Yuzu arrived looking so forlorn and put his arms right around him, like Javi was his only lifeline in this place, and Javi couldn’t just stand at a distance. This is the heart of their friendship, from the very first day that a determined, jittery Yuzu showed up at the Cricket Club — they take care of each other, no questions asked. How could he say no, when Yuzu was worn out and stressed and just wanted to be somewhere familiar? When Yuzu needs someone, there’s only one answer Javi’s ever going to give.

The only problem is everything’s different now, after what happened in Japan. Having Yuzu in his arms was different, having Yuzu in his apartment was different. There’s been tension between them, an electric charge, and Javi had to swallow down sudden urges to kiss Yuzu. But the urges didn’t go away, and Javi doesn’t know what to do. Maybe they should talk things out, like adults, but Javi has no idea what he’d say, or how he’d get his nebulous thoughts and feelings from Spanish into an English that wouldn’t go over Yuzu’s head. This stuff is too complicated for first languages, let alone second or third.

He decides to think about it later when he’s alone. Focus on watching the movie. The room is dark, and Yuzu’s having trouble keeping his eyes open, so Javi leans his head back, letting himself relax. He’s got time to figure out what to do.

Some time later, Javi wakes up, feeling like he’s been asleep for years. He blinks, adjusting his eyes to the dark, and realizes Yuzu is staring at him from the other end of the couch. He meets Yuzu’s gaze, and it takes his breath away. Everything Yuzu's feeling is right there in his eyes, depths of love and tenderness and desire that Javi never knew about.

Javi's overwhelmed by it, like a wave crashing over him. There’s so much longing in Yuzu's face, calling out to him, begging him. It’s irresistible, and Javi wants to respond somehow, even if he's not where Yuzu is yet.

Javi starts to get up, wanting to move closer to Yuzu, because Yuzu looks like even the small distance between them is killing him. And then Yuzu inches closer and closer, slowly but with purpose. Every hair on Javi’s body stands on end as Yuzu crawls up his legs, his torso, his chest.

His heart pounds as Yuzu settles with his arms around Javi, their faces so close together he can feel Yuzu's breath, warm and rapid. There's nothing Javi wants more than to close that last inch of space between them, and he feels himself leaning in, moving by instinct. But he pulls back at the last second, forcing himself to say something. He doesn’t want Yuzu to get the wrong idea again.

"Yuzu," Javi starts. "You know...you know I don't feel the same way you do. I mean...I don't know. I don't know how I feel."

Yuzu's face clouds over, briefly, taking that in. But then he gets a determined look in his eye, his face set and focused like he’s lining up for a difficult jump. "You want to kiss me, though," he says, barely a question.

"Yeah," Javi says.

“Okay, so do it," Yuzu says.

Javi pulls Yuzu in so he's resting on top of him, arms tight around him, and closes the gap, and — it's even better than it was in Japan. Every pent-up feeling from the days and weeks of not kissing is released at once, and they're both frantic, desperate. There’s no caution or hesitation this time, their kisses deep and warm and passionate right from the start. Javi feels like he’s been wasting his time trying to ignore his urges. They should have been doing this hours ago.

He runs his hands up and down Yuzu's body as they kiss, feeling all that lean muscle, and Yuzu groans softly, moving like he's trying to get even closer. Javi's getting lost in it, nothing in the world but his mouth on Yuzu’s and their bodies pressed together, and he suddenly doesn't care about anything else. He just _wants_ Yuzu, wants this moment to keep going. Maybe it's selfish, to take from Yuzu when he can't give back the same way, but that feels like a distant concern right now. This is so much better than pretending everything’s normal.

He can tell Yuzu's getting lost in it too, barely pausing to breathe, like he can't stand for them not to be touching everywhere. Javi pushes up the edge of Yuzu’s t-shirt, resting his hands on the smooth, warm skin just above his hips. His desire deepens, and he feels so aware of their clothing, like it’s a heavy barrier between them. Yuzu pulls away a bit, finally catching his breath, and strokes Javi’s face gently, looking into his eyes.

"My Javi," he murmurs, like he's saying something to himself, and Javi goes cold all over suddenly, because — he's not Yuzu's. He said so at the beginning, right before they started, so it would be clear, and Yuzu acted like it was fine for them to kiss anyway. It was just supposed to be kissing. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

Yuzu startles too, like maybe he didn't mean to say that out loud, and his face goes blank, all the warmth draining out of it. “Sorry," Yuzu mumbles in a tiny voice, scrambling off Javi. "Sorry." He puts his face in his hands and mutters some more in Japanese.

Javi moves so they're both sitting up on the couch, making a little distance between them. He squashes his instinct to reach out and touch Yuzu, comfort him. That's not a good idea.

"I…” Javi starts, and Yuzu says, "I know, I know," shaking his head.

Javi feels a little sick now, the mood changed so abruptly his head is still spinning. He tries to figure out if he could have stopped this, somehow. Yuzu's been acting like he'd be okay with whatever Javi could give him, friendship or hooking up, even if it wasn't all of what he wanted. But that clearly isn't the case, and Javi wishes, desperately, that anyone other than Yuzu was in love with him. Yuzu, who never does anything halfway. Yuzu, who operates at about twice the intensity of a normal person. Yuzu, who hates to lose.

God, this is such a mess, and they have to teach little kids together this week, and Javi has absolutely no idea how to fix this.

"I going to bed," Yuzu says faintly, and gets up. Javi tries to catch his eye, but Yuzu turns his head away, walking towards the guest bedroom with such deliberate dignity that Javi’s heart aches.

*****

Yuzu gets up early. It's partly because of the jetlag, and partly because he's barely slept, thinking. He showers in the guest bath and makes the bed.

By seven he's got his bags in the living room and an Uber ordered.

He hates feeling like he's sneaking out. If Javi woke up earlier, he wouldn't have. But Javi always sleeps late, and Yuzu doesn't want to wake him, not like this. Not when there's nothing to say.

He's so angry with himself. He knew better. He _knew_. Javi said it, right out, _I don't feel the same as you_. Yuzu’s had all those easy, casual hookups this year, and he knows how it goes. It's not hard for him, to have sex without deeper feelings. It was just stupid to think he could fake it this time, with someone he cares about so much. With _Javi_ , of all people.

And the truth, the terrible truth that comes to him as he's sitting on Javi's couch, head in his hands, is he wasn't even trying to do that. Somehow he thought last night, in that dim sleepy strangeness, that he could _make_ Javi feel like he does. That kisses, or sleeping together, could change everything. That coffees and an airport hug and staying at Javi’s apartment meant the changes were already starting. That this would go the way he wanted if he just worked hard enough at it, like everything else in his life.

But Javi's a person, not a medal, and Yuzu's stomach does painful flips as he remembers Javi’s face last night. Sad and regretful, yes, but detached, too. Angry with Yuzu for crossing his boundaries, for trying too hard. Javi wants his kisses, maybe more. No, definitely more — Yuzu remembers Javi’s craving hands and restless body beneath him, the heat of his mouth. But that was only in the moment. He doesn't want _Yuzu_ , not all of him, and he said it honestly before they began. Yuzu just didn't listen.

It thrums through Yuzu in sick pangs, the full weight of understanding. He doesn't want it this way with Javi; kisses without meaning, having to pretend. He doesn't want to settle for scraps. And he thinks, slowly, he doesn't want to settle for friendship anymore either. Not that it's necessarily even in the cards, since Javi might not even want to be around him, after this. But it hurts too much, knowing Javi doesn't see him that way, knowing Javi wants to kiss him but not be with him. He doesn't know if it's the language barrier or the distance, or if Javi will just never care about him like that, but it doesn't matter. They aren’t in the same place.

Yuzu retired to Japan thinking he'd carry his love with him like his medals, something to polish and put away on a shelf, cherishing it as something in the past. This is the opposite of that, like trying to make a comeback in a sport he's never tried. Going for what he'd already given up on, resigned himself to never having.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and when he sighs it's like he's clearing something out. This is his fault, mostly, and he can fix it.

His phone chimes, letting him know the car is outside. He stands up, picking up his bags, and looks at Javi's door. No sound. Yuzu goes outside, trying to leave this all behind for good.

In the car, he texts. _I'm sorry. Not happen again._

It's tempting to go to the airport and just book a ticket home, but he goes to the hotel instead. He doesn't want to let Brian down on top of everything, when he knows they probably got clinic bookings partly because of him. This is a business, doing the right thing. He just hopes he and Javi can work together without making more problems.

Yuzu checks into the hotel room he booked weeks ago, like he should have all along. Unpacks, orders in lunch. He can do these things. After he eats he finds himself drifting off, and even though he knows he shouldn't he stretches out for a nap. It's easier not to think.

He wakes up when it's nearly evening, and checks his phone. Business emails, a couple texts from his sister and friends, nothing from Javi. It's better this way. He orders in dinner, and settles down for an evening of watching videos on his phone and ignoring all the thoughts in his head.

Day one of the rest of his life. Like last fall, when he knew the Grand Prix was starting without him. He's mentally disciplined, and he knows how to do this.

Still. It takes a long time to fall asleep that night.

The next day is the clinic, and Yuzu actually throws up before he goes. He hasn't done that in a long, long time, since he was a kid competing in juniors and couldn't keep breakfast down. Today the western breakfast from room service doesn't sit well, eggs and buttered toast, but he's also gripped with sudden panic. He hasn't taught kids in a while, and doing it in English will be much harder. This feels like so much, after a year in retirement.

But most of all he doesn't know how to handle seeing Javi, after he messed up everything. Javi still hasn't answered his text, and Yuzu doesn’t know what that means, if Javi’s too mad to talk or wants to do it in person. He guesses he’ll find out.

When Yuzu gets to the rink, the knot in his throat gets tighter, then eases once he's inside. This is all familiar, the smell and sounds. The slight locker room stink, the cool sharp smell of the ice, coffee coming from the offices. A group of teenagers are warming up and he smiles, watching them jump and spin, laughing with each other. It feels like the Cricket Club always did, warm and friendly. Brian walks out of the office and waves at Yuzu, beckoning. He doesn't see Javi anywhere yet.

Brian hugs him when they meet. "Yuzuru. I'm so glad you came. We've missed you."

Yuzu nods. "I missing you too," he says, the words suddenly halting. He's still looking around, and Brian notices.

"Our Javier's late as always," he says, clapping Yuzu on the shoulder. "Come on, let's round up the kids."

Yuzu laces up quickly on the bench while Brian calls the class together. So many eager, excited faces. He remembers being the star here, everyone wanting to learn from him but not wanting to take up his time. They just watched, and he let them. Now he skates out to meet Brian, slowly, putting on his public smile. Friendly, professional, performing.

"And of course, we're thrilled to have a very special skater here this week, Hanyu Yuzuru," Brian says, gesturing to him. The kids cheer.

Yuzu feels his smile growing wider, more real. In truth, this will be easy, and probably fun too. Kids like him and he likes them, and all he has to do is skate. This is part of what he wanted to do after retiring anyway, training the next generation, and it’s good practice for doing it in Japan for real someday.

On the other side of the rink, his eyes catch a glimmer of light, a door opening. Someone comes in.

"Ah, here's our slowpoke," Brian says, as the figure comes closer. "Javier Fernandez, gracing us with his presence."

The kids laugh, clapping. They all look to watch him come around the rink. Yuzu watches too. Javi's grinning, blushing at Brian making fun of him and loving the attention. His hair is rucked up, messy.

Then his glance flicks to meet Yuzu’s as he reaches the bench, and it's like the world goes still, for just a minute. It’s only the two of them, staring straight at each other. Javi’s face is pale and set, and Yuzu doesn't know what he reads there. Sadness, anger, acceptance? Javi looks blank, but Yuzu knows, for that moment, that Javi really sees him.

And then Javi looks away and sits to put on his skates. Yuzu tightens his jaw and looks back to the ice, thinking of a future like this, his heart sinking in his chest.

*****

It took Javi hours to get to sleep, after the abrupt end to their kisses on the couch, and it’s after ten by the time he wakes up the next morning. The apartment is still and quiet, which he wasn’t expecting — surely Yuzu should be awake by now. Maybe he's lurking in the guest room, feeling awkward. Javi yawns and stretches, sitting up in bed reluctantly. He feels like he drank too much last night, his head heavy, his stomach rolling.

He’s a little nervous about how Yuzu might be feeling, but he thinks it’ll be okay once they talk about it. He just needs to reassure Yuzu that he’s not mad at him, and figure out how they can be normal with each other, and then the rest of the week can proceed according to Javi’s plan.

Javi reaches for his phone on the nightstand. When he picks it up, a message from Yuzu stares back at him. _I'm sorry. Not happen again._ Javi’s heart starts pounding, his nerves suddenly through the roof. Why is Yuzu texting him, when he could just wait and apologize when Javi woke up? Is he that afraid to talk to Javi?

He gets to his feet and opens his bedroom door, going out to look for Yuzu. The living room is empty, no signs that Yuzu’s been there. The door of the guest room is slightly ajar. Javi knocks, once, just in case. When he doesn’t hear anything, he gently pushes it open the rest of the way, and — it’s empty too. The bed is neatly made, like no one ever slept in it. Yuzu’s left.

Javi leans against the doorframe, heavily. Now he knows why Yuzu sent that message — he meant _goodbye_. He knows Yuzu will stick around for the clinic, because he wouldn't let Brian down like that. But the text sounds like the end of something, like a door's closed once and for all, and Javi's on the other side of it.

How did he mess this up so badly? Javi wonders, sighing and running his hands through his hair. His feelings have been confusing, sure, but he’s tried to be honest about them. He’s tried to make sure that he’s not saying no, even though he’s not saying yes.

Except that’s probably not what it seemed like to Yuzu, he realizes, heart sinking. When Javi said "I don't feel the same way," he meant "right now.” But maybe what Yuzu heard was "I’m not ever going to feel the same way.” He must have assumed Javi just wanted to hook up, or didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying “no” right out.

And so of course Yuzu would leave, after what happened last night. He’d see it as a sign that things wouldn't work out, and move on. These past few weeks, Javi's assumed that Yuzu's love for him will stay constant, waiting patiently for him while he tries to respond. He never thought of this possibility, that Yuzu would eventually have enough of Javi's wishy-washy responses, and move on.

Which makes sense — it's what he'd do if he were in Yuzu's shoes — but Javi still feels like he's been punched in the stomach.

Javi pours himself a bowl of cereal and eats it slowly and mechanically, his mind racing. He feels like he's taking this harder than he should. If he's not actually in love with Yuzu, this is fine, right? Javi's told people "no" before, and it feels awful in the moment, but once it’s over he’s always felt relief, not hurt. But that’s not really what Javi was trying to do here, and he feels like he’s lost something important.

He puts his bowl in the sink and then flops down on the couch, staring into space. The more he thinks about it, the more he’s convinced that yesterday was the last day of his friendship with Yuzu. Everything’s gotten so awkward since they kissed in Japan, their ease with each other turned complicated and tense.

He’s flooded with memories, thinking about how much things have changed. Their first practice together, Yuzu scraping together his sparse English to tell Javi how much he loved his quad sal three separate times. Javi offering to show Yuzu Toronto and the two of them ending up at Javi’s apartment instead, playing video games and cuddling with Effie. Standing next to Yuzu on podiums and grinning at him, feeling like he’d won two medals instead of one. The whole web of warmth and care and protection they wove together over grueling practices and long flights and competitions. How it held them up through struggle and injury and loss, knowing they were in this together.

A lot of that ended after Yuzu retired, and Javi can't help but feel that it brought an end to something in his own skating. He’d already mourned for that, at the start of the season. He thought he had a chance to make something new between them, these two weeks, but that was probably wishful thinking.

So what is he so sad for? In theory, this should be easy to let go of. A friendship mostly forged by proximity, made irredeemably awkward by feelings and difficult to maintain because of distance. But there’s so much stuff Javi can't shake: the impulse to be good to Yuzu, the warmth of being around him, the way they're drawn to each other. How kissing him felt so natural and happened so easily, once he knew it was possible.

There’s not nothing here, he realizes with a thunderclap. Maybe he doesn't feel the same way as Yuzu, but he does feel _something_. He doesn’t want things to go back to the way they were — he wants to build on what they had and move beyond friendship. In a different world, he could ask Yuzu on a date. They could try this, see where it went.

But in this world, the window's already closed for that, and Javi doesn't think it'll open again. Last night made it clear: Yuzu's feelings are so strong he can't take "maybe" for an answer. All Javi's maybes have just broken Yuzu's heart.

And that's not even mentioning everything that made Javi hesitate in the first place: the distance, the communication barrier, the way his last relationship seemed to vanish in an instant. He still can't see any way this ends well.

The stakes are too high, the problems are too many, Yuzu's feelings are too far ahead, so why is Javi so upset? This wasn't going anywhere. At least this way he didn't fail, he reminds himself. But — but part of him wanted to try. It’s too late for that, though, has been too late for a long time, and now he'll be lucky if Yuzu speaks to him again.

Javi goes to bed early, hoping to be well-rested for the clinic, but he forgets to set his alarm and wakes up only half an hour before start time. It’s a blessing in disguise, because he's hurrying around in a panic, hoping Brian won't be mad, and he forgets to worry about seeing Yuzu.

He just barely makes the bus, running after it and waving until the driver stops, and of course it gets stuck at a long red light, and so he’s about fifteen minutes late by the time he actually gets to the Cricket Club. It’s fine, though, because it’s just the first day. Brian teases him, and the kids laugh, eager faces turned towards him. It's all normal, until he catches Yuzu's eyes.

Pain flickers across Yuzu's face, followed by fierce determination, an expression like he's setting something aside, and then he turns away. Javi feels like his chest is made of iron. He pushes it aside, though, like Yuzu did, and throws himself into clinic.

It goes by quicker than he was expecting, and before he knows it they’re done for the day. He waves goodbye to Brian and Yuzu feeling almost lighthearted, like maybe this is going to be okay after all. “Set two alarms,” Brian calls after him as he leaves, and Javi doesn’t have to force his laughter.

The next day's easier right from the start, and the day after that. The kids are great, eager to learn, and he loves figuring out how to help them, encouraging them and pushing them to go further. It doesn’t leave him a lot of time to think about anything else.

But he still has to work with Yuzu, the two of them leading exercises and drills, and that’s hard. They’re not snapping at each other, or anything, but there’s no warmth there, nothing to say besides stuff about the clinic. There’s never been this much distance between him and Yuzu before, not even when Yuzu barely spoke English.

Yuzu seems to be having a great time otherwise, which just makes it worse. Javi goes to take a break one afternoon and comes back to see Yuzu spinning a little girl around on the ice, both of them giggling. Javi feels a sharp pain in his chest, watching Yuzu lean down and scoop her up for a hug. As much as Yuzu’s a private person, his heart is so open, and Javi can’t believe he’s messed up so much that Yuzu’s closed his heart to him. He misses that love, even if he couldn't return it. He has to take a lot of deep breaths before he goes back on the ice, and he doesn't look at Yuzu.

The other hard part is Brian, and his watchful eagle's eyes. Javi’s always appreciated how perceptive Brian is, how good he is at reading their moods and adapting accordingly, how much he cares about them as people. But right now, Javi wishes Brian was the kind of coach that only cared about jumps, because he keeps throwing a wrench in all their efforts to be normal. Javi hopes maybe Brian won’t notice that he and Yuzu aren't hugging hello or goodbye, but he brings it up on the second day.

"What happened to the Yuzu and Javi cuddles?" he asks, as they're all heading off to lunch. "You guys too cool for that now?"

Both Javi and Yuzu are silent, no idea what to say to that. Brian shrugs. "Sorry, forget I asked," he says, and drops the subject.

He clearly doesn't stop thinking about it, though, because Javi catches him watching them, a thoughtful expression on his face. Brian does that sometimes, standing off to the side and observing to figure out what they might need from him. But Javi thinks maybe they won’t talk about it again, how awkward things are between him and Yuzu. Maybe Brian will just let it slide, since Yuzu isn’t technically his student anymore.

At the end of the fourth day, they're all standing in a circle, cooling down, when Brian says, "Yuzuru, Javier, I’d like to see you in my office after this.”

The kids all squeal — Javi and Yuzu are in trouble!! — but Javi doesn't think anything of it. Brian probably has a lesson plan to go over.

Once they're in the office, Brian sighs. "I’m just going to be honest with you. Having the two of you here has been a lot more challenging than I thought it would be."

Javi's heart pounds. He thought he was teaching fine. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Yuzu's head jolt up in surprise.

"I wanted both of you to work with me this summer not just because you're great skaters, and great for the kids to learn from, but because you work well with each other. You have great chemistry."

Javi wishes Brian had used another word — an image pops into his mind of kissing Yuzu, and he can feel his face getting hot.

"Lots of students think that everything is a competition, that you can't have friends and skate. and I always tell them, that's not true. I always say, look at Yuzu and Javi, they could be friends even though they competed against each other..."

Brian sighs again, heavily. "This week you guys have been bringing a lot of tension to the rink. And that's not good for anybody, but especially not for the kids."

"Everything fine," Yuzu says, stubbornly, and Javi thinks he catches the briefest of eye-rolls from Brian, before his face becomes stern.

"Now I don't know what’s going on, and unless you want to talk to me about it, you don’t have to tell me. But it’s making it harder for the kids to learn, and harder for you to teach. Now, Yuzu, I know I’m not your coach anymore, so this is for Javi." Brian turns to look at Javi.

"Go eat dinner with Yuzu, and do whatever it is you need to do so there’s not so much tension. You don’t have to be best friends or anything, just — have a conversation. And leave your baggage at the door before you walk in this rink. Sound good?"

Javi nods. "Yes, I can do that." Yuzu bows a little.

Brian’s face brightens. "Good boys. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow."

*****

It's easier than Yuzu thought it would be, ignoring Javi.

He's not mad. It doesn't seem like Javi is either. It's tense when they're around each other, but mostly it's...nothing. And that's hard in itself, to know that the warmth between them could be cut off like this. That it's possible to not even be friends. Even when Yuzu retired from competition, that little spark stayed; checking Javi’s Instagram, exchanging the occasional texts. They were always connected, however distantly.

Now, though, Yuzu will look up and realize Javi's on the other side of the rink and they haven't even looked at each other in hours. It hurts when he remembers, but he's trying to get used to it. This is the rest of his life, he tells himself.

He makes up for it by getting to know the kids. They're great — a few little girls really connect with him, and one teenage boy who's got some potential. He doesn't think any of them will go very far, but with the younger ones, you never know. The right coaches, the right choreographer, maybe a breakthrough in technique and everything could change. He tries hard to be helpful and inspiring to them, because if nothing else he wants his presence here to be worthwhile for Brian and the kids.

It's still strange, skating at the Cricket Club again, with everything different. His name engraved on the bottom of the Worlds and Olympic plaques, maybe not to be replaced for a while. The same good ice, the same friendly people, but none of the pressure from before; media day zoos or security at the door, his mom picking him up after practice. He feels so, so much older, like he's been living another life now. Maybe that's why he pushed things with Javi, like he had to close the door completely before he could really move on.

Sometimes he finds his gaze drawn to Javi, working down at the far end of the ice. The shape of his body, the strength of his jumps, the way he's always so warm and smiling. This is no different than it was before, looking and knowing he couldn't have him, but it was easier somehow when Javi was with someone. Yuzu’s always liked Miki, and it just wasn't a question that he'd keep his feelings to himself.

He's embarrassed, now, to think that as soon as he had a chance he messed it up. Twice, even. That first time in Japan, maybe if he'd controlled himself better things would have gone all right, and Javi wouldn't have been scared away. He could have acted like this was new to him too, instead of letting Javi see the depth of his emotions all at once.

The other night was just stupid, though, and his face gets hot whenever he thinks about it. He had the chance to be friends, or even to start this thing over, beginning with kisses again and waiting to see what came next. But no, Yuzu had to ask for more, like he expected it, and Javi saw right through him again.

This is the first real mistake Yuzu's made in his life, and the biggest. He’s just going to have to get over it, though, like anything else he’s ever done. And he thinks he's doing a pretty good job, too, until Brian calls them out.

He appreciates that Brian addresses Javi instead of him, because doesn't know what to say, his newly-regained English frozen in his mouth. _Everything fine_ is what comes out, when he tries to defend himself. Javi stutters too, when he answers, and he doesn't look at Yuzu other than a quick glance.

Somehow they make it out of the office, still not looking at each other. Yuzu follows Javi, and he can't tell anything from the back of his head.

_Go eat dinner with Yuzu_. Did Brian just order them to go on a _date_?

They get through the last couple hours of the afternoon without talking, the way it's been all week. Yuzu focuses on the kids, trying double jumps with a few of them who are still struggling. He looks over at Javi a few times to see him looking back, and the tension ratchets up, exactly the opposite of what Brian asked. Then they're finally off the ice, unlacing their skates in the silence of the empty rink. The kids are gone, and Yuzu looks over, sidelong, to see Javi going to the showers.

It's stupid, but he waits until Javi's out before he goes in too, head ducked and his clothes bundled in his arms as he hustles past. This whole thing is like a wound, a stinging paper cut, something that only doesn't hurt as long as he doesn't think about it. But eventually he's showered and dressed, and he comes out to Javi waiting for him.

“Issmi?” Javi asks, not quite looking at him, and Yuzu nods.

They walk to the sushi place around the corner and down the street, the same place on Avenue they've been going for years, every once in a while. It's a long enough walk to be like a cooldown after a skating session, and they've never had to talk much. The silence feels different now, the same tense quiet of this whole week.

It's a warm summer night, and Javi's arms are bare. Yuzu walks beside and a little behind him, and he can't help looking at the cut of muscle underneath his t-shirt, the way Javi swings his arms so casually and confidently. So much he's missing, so much he's lost, all his own fault.

The whole way there, he keeps thinking about what they're going to say, practicing and assembling English sentences. What is there to say? They're having dinner because Brian said to. Nothing's changed. Javi doesn't want more than friendship and Yuzu can't live like that anymore.

He guesses they'll agree to be better, not make things so weird at the rink, for the kids and for Brian. Talk to each other, at least. He's not sure how that will work, considering they can't even say anything to each other right now.

Finally they reach the restaurant, a little red storefront with a comfortable, traditional wooden interior. It's mostly empty on a quiet Thursday night, and they’re seated at a table along the wall right away. Yuzu always liked coming here before, happy to be able to eat sushi without all the press and fans back home.

His mother used to come here too, the handful of times they had dinner together. Her English was better than Yuzu’s, having to go out in the city more often, and sometimes he’d relax and just let her translate, while Javi’s eyes sparkled with laughter. _Never going to get better this way_ , he said once, looking right at Yuzu, and Yuzu just laughed and shrugged and spoke to his mother again. _Tell him he should learn more Japanese._

Now it’s just the two of them, and it’s another difference from the way things used to be. Yuzu has to handle things on his own, from tipping the hotel staff to navigating this tense, awful situation. Javi looks down at his menu and Yuzu does too, even though they always order the same things here. Javi taps his foot under the table, and the silence gets weirder. Yuzu stares at the table.

Someone takes their order, speaking Japanese with Yuzu like servers here always have before. That's a relief, something that makes him feel just a little easier for a minute. But then the waitress is gone and he has to turn back to Javi. Yuzu does it, squaring himself up to speak.

Javi is staring at the table, his hands resting there and fingers interlaced. He's frowning hard, and Yuzu can see he's breathing fast, like he's nervous about whatever he's going to say. Yuzu pauses, his mouth partway open, his own inadequate words arrested. He waits, heart tight in his throat.

"I didn't," Javi says, voice high and thin, and stops. He clears his throat. "I didn't say never."

Yuzu frowns, trying to follow. "What?"

He sees Javi swallow, throat working hard. Javi still doesn't look up. "I told you — I don't know how I feel. It's new. You surprised me."

Yuzu blinks. He didn't think they were going to talk about this in depth, now or ever. He's not sure exactly what Javi is saying, either, and all he can think to do is apologize again. "I'm sorry, I told you. I don't want everything — complicated. I try more hard, at the rink. Like Brian ask.”

Javi shakes his head, and looks up from the table at last. His brown eyes are so, so wide, concerned and intense, his heavy brows raised. "No, that's not what I meant. I didn't say — I mean, just because I’m not feeling the same now, that doesn't mean that I never can."

Yuzu looks at him in confusion, parsing that out. "I want to feel the same," Javi says, gently.

"OK," Yuzu says. There's a pause. "But you don't."

Javi sighs, long, and leans back, dropping his head against the wooden wall. He looks up at the ceiling. "I don't know."

A sudden heat burns through Yuzu, a kind of strengthening energy. He's sorry for Javi, caught in all this, taken by surprise by all of Yuzu’s emotions and complicated history. It can't have been easy to have all of this dropped on him without warning.

But at the same time — Yuzu can't untangle this for him, and in a way Yuzu’s feelings are his own, totally separate. If Javi's not where he is, there's nothing more that Yuzu can do to make it happen. All he can do is be himself.

"Listen," Yuzu says. "Like I’m saying in Japan, let's forget it. I'm sorry for making things so complicated. With Brian, too. And the kids." He reaches out over the small table and pats Javi's shoulder briefly. "I’m making mistakes. We start again. Hi, Javi, good to see you."

Javi lifts his head, a chagrined smile on his face. He looks at Yuzu for a moment, a tender expression on his face. He sighs, and then speaks. "Good to see you too."

The waitress comes with their miso then, and they're able to shift into discussing the clinic, the kids, the work this last week. Whether Brian's put on weight. It's not exactly like evenings here used to be; something has changed forever, an innocent veneer cracked. They're different now. Yuzu knows how Javi kisses, and what Javi’s hands feel like on his body, instead of wondering when he’s alone at night. But he knows how it feels to be hurt by him, too.

It's still early when they finish, and they linger for a bit as Javi finishes his sake. Yuzu keeps catching Javi looking at him. The ease of talking about work has faded, and there's this warm, tingling awareness now, like at their dinners in Japan or at Javi's apartment the other night. That connection hasn't changed or gone away, and Yuzu's just going to have to live with knowing it's there.

Javi pays the bill and they go outside. Yuzu takes out his phone, looking up a cab app, trying to decide if he should offer to share. He’s downtown at the Ritz, and Javi's place is in midtown, near the rink. It's early enough Yuzu feels a little silly going right home, and they're trying to prove they're normal again, friends.

Javi’s looking at him, his own phone out, and Yuzu suddenly doesn't want this night to end, now that they’re talking again. He thinks, a little desperately, of some way to extend the moment, and remembers Javi inviting him out before, late nights with his friends. He always said no, back then.

“The bar is nice, at my hotel," Yuzu offers.

He sees a strange look go over Javi's face, and winces. Maybe he pushed it too far again. He's always making mistakes, now that he's letting his feelings get in the way.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Javi says, though, so they share a cab. Yuzu holds his breath as he gets in, looking at the back of Javi’s head, but he’s still not sure what Javi’s thinking about.

*****

On the way over to Issmi, Javi's head is swirling. He's been a mess of emotion ever since Brian ordered them to get dinner. Part of him is embarrassed, that everything was so obvious to Brian. Does Brian know Yuzu's in love with him? Is that obvious too?

He’s nervous too — what if Yuzu doesn't want to talk? Their silences are awkward now, not companionable, hard to sit through.

But underneath it all, there's a fierce determination. He’s going to try and explain, once and for all, what he's actually feeling, in a way that Yuzu understands. It’s what he should have done ages ago, and now this might be his only chance.

Once they get to the restaurant, Javi almost chickens out. Surely there's no way Yuzu wants to talk about this again. But he knows he's going to regret it, if he doesn't say something. His confession comes out squeaky and hesitant, his voice wavering, but he soldiers on. Yuzu doesn't understand what he's saying, and he tries to explain, how he was caught off guard by Yuzu's strong feelings. But Yuzu still tries to apologize, like he thinks Javi's mad at him, so Javi tries a different angle, desperately.

“I want to feel the same," he says, as simple as he can make it.

Yuzu frowns. "Okay,” he says, and Javi thinks he's finally gotten through. But then Yuzu says, "But you don't," and Javi can't help but sigh, slumping back in his seat.

“I don't know," he says. And he means it differently than he did before. Yes, he's still unsure about being in love. But if and when he ever falls in love, with Yuzu or with someone else, he’s also not sure that it will look anything like it does in Yuzu. Since when have he and Yuzu been alike, anyway?

He might never have the same kind of heightened, intense emotions as Yuzu, but that doesn’t have to mean anything. Maybe his love will be quieter, less overwhelming. Suddenly being in love doesn’t seem so impossible to Javi, when he thinks about it like that.

But meanwhile, Yuzu still doesn't seem to understand. "I’m making mistakes. We start again," Yuzu says, and it hurts Javi a little, a twinge in his chest. Yuzu seems like he still has no idea Javi might want to be more than friends. Or maybe he's deliberately set that all aside, no more chances for Javi.

Starting again is better than the horrible nothingness of the past week, though, so Javi goes along with it. They have a actual nice conversation, for the first time in five days, and it's such a relief, like a weight off Javi's shoulders. Javi feels comfortable enough to linger, polishing off his sake, and he thinks about trying to see if Yuzu wants to do something else. He decides not to push it, though. He doesn’t want to come on too strong and ruin this tentative ease they’ve built.

And then Yuzu invites him to the bar at his hotel, hesitantly.

Javi spends the cab ride over trying to find a new tactic, some way to get Yuzu to really understand. He doesn’t think it’s the language barrier making it so hard here — Yuzu seems to think that going back to being just friends is their only option. Javi’s going to have to convince Yuzu that he’s serious about wanting to try, that all he wants is a chance to let his feelings grow to where Yuzu’s are. _You shouldn't have to woo someone who's already in love with you,_ Javi thinks, a little bitterly, but that's where they're at, apparently.

If Yuzu doesn't budge tonight — if he's still determined to give this up, if he still doesn't understand — Javi will just let it be. He can't force Yuzu to give him a chance. But Javi's going to do his best, now, to make sure Yuzu knows exactly where things stand.

The bar is just as nice as Yuzu said, quiet and mellow, soft jazz piped in. There aren’t many people there, and it’s easy for them to snag two of the high-backed oaken barstools, tucked into a dim corner of the bar. They order drinks, and Javi slowly settles his arm on the back of Yuzu’s chair. A little push, just this side of normal.

"This kind of like that hotel in Finland, remember?" Yuzu says, smiling.

“I was just thinking that,” Javi says, and they're off, reminiscing about their competition travel, good and bad. It’s warm, light talk, like the atmosphere in the bar, like Yuzu's smile, and his drink is making Javi feel warm and light too.

Yuzu's loosening up a little, angling his body towards Javi, his face flushed a delicate pink. Javi moves his arm from the chair to Yuzu’s shoulders. It’s a light gesture, Javi trying to be natural. Moving slowly from where they used to be to somewhere else.

But every time Javi touches Yuzu, it goes to his head. He stops talking, feeling that electricity thrumming through him, and Yuzu glances at him. "What?” Yuzu demands.

"I don't know," Javi says.

Maybe Yuzu's a little drunk, because he starts giggling at this. “You always saying that."

"Hey," Javi says, teasing, and Yuzu giggles more, leaning into Javi until his head's basically resting on Javi's shoulder. Javi tightens his arm, a little, and Yuzu relaxes with a sigh. They sit like this for a little while, just breathing. Yuzu’s warm and his t-shirt is soft, and Javi can smell his shampoo, something fresh and a little sharp.

It’s too much for him, all of a sudden, and he gives into one of his impulses, leaning over to lightly press a kiss into Yuzu's hair.

Yuzu startles a little, jerking like he’s trying to sit up, and Javi relaxes his hold. "Sorry, too much?" he asks. He turns to face Yuzu, who looks stricken.

"What’s that mean?" he asks, eyes wide. "I thought you wanting just friends."

“I never said that," Javi says, blinking.

Yuzu gives him this look like he's completely stupid. "At dinner, you say you don't feel the same."

"Yes, but — I didn't mean I think we should just be friends," Javi says, frantically.

“Okay,” Yuzu says skeptically, drawing out the word.

Javi decides to just go for it, lay all his cards on the table. "I like you a lot," he says, and he can feel his stupid voice quavering again.

Yuzu still looks skeptical, and Javi can't really blame him, because that could mean anything.

"I think you're really — ” he stutters, suddenly feeling like every compliment he could give Yuzu will just sound patronizing. "Cute. Hot. Beautiful. You know."

Now Yuzu looks like he's about to start laughing at him, and Javi's not sure if that's any better. He takes a deep breath. “I want to try to be with you, okay?" Javi says, finally, and it’s hard to say but now the words are out there, a truth he doesn’t want to take back. "I want us to be more than friends. Even if I don’t feel the same right now."

"Oh,” Yuzu says, slowly, and then he doesn't say anything for a long time, staring into the remnants of his drink. Javi's heart pounds. His mouth is dry, suddenly, and the longer Yuzu's quiet the more nervous he gets.

"Please, Yuzu," Javi says, cringing internally at the desperate note in his own voice. "Please let me try?"

Yuzu looks at him, and then grins slyly, mouth quirking up on one side, like he's just thought of a really good joke. "I don't know," he says, mimicking Javi’s tone earlier. Then he cracks up, erupting into high, cascading giggles and leaning into Javi with the force of his laughter.

Javi guesses this is revenge for the past few weeks, and he rolls his eyes a little, but he can't help chuckling too.

“Really, though," Javi says, after Yuzu's laughter has died down. "Will you let me try?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now the chapter that earns the story’s rating. Happy Birthday, Yuzu. ;)

Yuzu has only started drinking in the last year, and he’s usually careful about it. One drink at most, nursed through the evening. He likes to keep his head, and he doesn’t like the out of control feeling he gets when he’s had too much, clumsy and unaccustomed in his own body.

So he can’t really explain why he’s had two cocktails in quick succession, except that it’s been a hard week and and it’s such a relief to feel that ugly weight lifted, the silent tension of the last few days. Maybe he just wanted to be tipsy like this, laughing low and close with Javi in the warm amber light of the bar. It's made it easier to be the way they were before, acting more like friends. He lets Javi sit close, then move closer, and he pretends it's the way it used to be, his secret love held close, Javi oblivious to his feelings. Yuzu pretends he can just have this, so near to what he wants, and it won't change anything.

Then Javi kisses the top of his head.

Yuzu pulls away, ice water in his veins. "What's that mean?"

His heart is pounding, like he's just been startled awake, and in a way he has. He was pretending things were the same, but Javi isn’t unaware of his feelings anymore. Everything they do means something now.

He listens as Javi tells him what he feels, trying to hear the truth in his words. It's something more than what Yuzu feared, something between casual exploration and real emotion. Javi's still not ready, but he’s — willing? A little bloom of hope grows in Yuzu’s chest, even as he tries to stay calm. The idea that Javi wants to try meeting in the middle, that's new and thrilling. That maybe he read it wrong, the other night. Maybe Javi was still just figuring it out, not rejecting him outright.

It makes sense. Javi doesn't make up his mind about anything fast or strongly, not at first. Yuzu's always known what he wants or doesn't want, but Javi takes his time. It's exciting, hopeful, to think Yuzu is something he wants to put in the work on — and at the same time, terrifying.

Yuzu's really never thought of this as something that could go wrong before, and the idea of _that_ is even scarier than losing Javi's friendship was. Maybe screwing up, or maybe hurting each other. Maybe Javi deciding, no, this isn’t something he wants after all.

And this is why Yuzu never said anything before, among so many other reasons. He wasn't sure he wanted to take the risk of being hurt — but Javi will. He's telling Yuzu that now, and Yuzu realizes he's been saying it all along. Javi’s not all the way there yet, but he's willing to try.

When Javi asks the first time, Yuzu teases him, stalling. He's proud of himself, too, for putting together a joke in English. But Javi asks again, his face serious, his voice warm. His arm is still around Yuzu, where it's been all evening, and Yuzu can't put him off with a joke again.

He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, worrying it, and looks up at Javi. Javi's eyes are so pleading, his voice so sincere. It's everything Yuzu's wanted for years; Javi right here with him, holding him, looking at him that way. And maybe it's wrong, but he suddenly feels powerful, like he wants to see how far Javi can really go.

The drinks are still keeping him warm and a little light-headed, and Yuzu leans in closer, touching Javi's face. He cups Javi’s cheek, so light that his palm and fingers are just resting on Javi’s afternoon stubble, heat radiating between them. Yuzu lowers his eyelids, studying Javi's face, his glance flicking all over. He can hear Javi's breath pick up, see his nostrils flaring with it. Javi's arm tenses on Yuzu's shoulders and his fingers dig in, but he doesn't move away.

Yuzu lifts his chin and tips his face towards Javi; deliberate, challenging. "Try?" he asks, softly. "Is that best you can do?"

He feels Javi take in a quick breath, blinking hard, fingers tight on Yuzu's shoulder. “What," Javi starts, and pausing, huffing out a little breath. His arm tightens around Yuzu more. "What else do you want?"

Yuzu flicks his glance up, directly to meet Javi's eyes. The bar was already quiet but it feels like it's just them now, alone in the room. He strokes Javi's face, still lightly, and smiles. "Come upstairs with me. Come to my room.”

His heart's pounding so hard, everything out in the open, making this final move. Javi could walk away, say he's not ready, anything. But Yuzu still feels that power, like nights when a routine goes well, when he knows he'll never put a foot wrong. Like he can have anything he wants, if only he asks for it.

And yes, Javi blinks again, shuddering, and leans in to press their foreheads together, like he needs something to steady himself. Javi takes another deep breath. "OK. I'll show you my best," he whispers.

Yuzu smiles, small, triumphant. "You promise?"

They ride the elevator in silence, not talking. They're close but not quite touching, and it still feels like they're surrounded by electricity, the way it has ever since this started. Yuzu thinks of that last night in Japan, saying goodbye in the hotel, and the heavy promise in Javi's voice. _See you in Toronto._ They've come so far since then, going through rough patches, misunderstandings. They barely spoke all week. Yuzu feels like he's been holding so much in, trying not to risk anything, stop himself from getting hurt.

He thinks, suddenly, that maybe Javi's been trying harder at this than him, not shying away like Yuzu has when it got hard. Maybe Javi is the brave one. Yuzu puts his shoulders back, trying to feel stronger, to be what Javi needs to get them through to the other side of this.

Once they get inside his room, Yuzu stops, in the short hall between the door and the bed. He turns to cup Javi's cheek again, and this time he holds him more firmly, stroking his cheek with his thumb.

"I'm sorry," he says, looking into Javi's eyes, serious. "For making so many mistakes. Now I see, you trying."

Javi looks back at him, so wide eyed it hurts. Yuzu winces, thinking of what he's been going through, all the confusion as Yuzu’s run hot and cold. He wishes he had the English to explain it all to Javi, how his feelings have never changed even as he’s tried to protect himself by pulling away, but he doesn’t. He’ll have to find another way to make it up to him.

"If you wanting me, it's enough," Yuzu says, simply, and leans in to kiss Javi.

His heart sings at the contact. Javi's hands come up to rest on his chest, warm and solid. Yuzu steps forward and pushes Javi gently against the wall. He leans his hand next to Javi's head, kissing him harder, and he has to get up on his toes to do it, really leaning in.

Javi makes a soft noise, and his hands curl into Yuzu's shirt. For just a moment he lets himself be kissed, and then he's kissing back, deep and hungry, opening his mouth. His hands curl tighter before he shifts his weight, pressing Yuzu back a step. Yuzu moves down, and then Javi pushes him against the other side of the hall, less gently than Yuzu did.

"You wanted me to show you," Javi mutters against his mouth, between kisses. He’s leaning his weight against Yuzu, close and insistent, and Yuzu cups his face, holding him as they kiss. He can feel the heat building between them like the other night, sudden and intense. Javi slides one hand down, resting on Yuzu's waist, pushing his thumb under Yuzu’s shirt to stroke the bare skin of his abdomen. "Watch."

Javi slides to his knees, and Yuzu's world slides sideways, so fast and dizzying he gasps with the shock. He’s hardly dared to imagine this except late at night, in the dark, alone. Javi's pulling at his waistband now, working fast. Yuzu rests his hands on Javi's head, fingers in his hair, and Javi tips back to look at him one more time before he leans in.

The look on Javi’s face is seared into Yuzu's sight — mouth slightly open, cheeks flushed, breathing hard. Those wide, speaking eyes, heavy-lidded now, and full of so many emotions that Yuzu doesn't think either of them could name them.

Javi's not as amazing at this as he is at kissing, moving a little sloppy, a little too fast, but it doesn't matter. Yuzu thinks, _he'll get better_ , but mostly he's paying attention to the steady, hot suction of Javi’s mouth. The way Javi is so fierce and so passionate, his fingers tight on Yuzu's hips. How much Javi seems to want it, moving eagerly and moaning around him, a low hum that makes Yuzu’s pulse throb.

Yuzu sighs out Javi’s name, still holding his head, shifting his feet wider apart. Javi doesn't stop, steady, steady. The lazy pleasure becomes sharp far too soon, and Yuzu groans " _Javi_ , yes," tightening his grip as he gets close.

Javi moves back then, switching in a hand, and leans back to look up at Yuzu as he finishes. It's too much to meet Javi’s gaze, knowing his own face shows everything he’s feeling, everything about this moment he’s wanted so long.

Yuzu gasps, and finally shuts his eyes as he comes.

When he finally opens them again Javi is looking right at him, still with that intense expression on his face. Suddenly it's Yuzu who's frightened by the depths of emotion here, all the possibilities ahead. Being responsible for Javi's happiness. Letting someone in like this, after a quiet year back at home, after so many years before that of shutting out his surroundings, focusing on his career.

Yuzu always feels so much of what other people around him do, and right now he's sensing all the huge tremulous unfolding emotion in Javi, all the potential between them, both good and bad. This is so much more than he ever realized, a turning moment in both their lives.

He can’t think about it all right now, not like this. Yuzu extends a hand and pulls Javi to his feet, and then he kisses him and takes him to bed.

"Was it good?" Javi murmurs, as Yuzu kisses him again. He's bare-chested on the bed, Yuzu lying next to him and touching his face. "I tried my best."

It hurts to hear the sincerity in Javi’s voice, the vulnerability. Everything seems so raw and open now, so full of meaning. Yuzu kisses him once more. "Wonderful," he says, truthfully.

He moves down Javi's body, resting between his legs, and undoes the zipper of his jeans, freeing his erection. Yuzu pauses a moment, just reaching out to stroke Javi with his fingertips, resting his face against Javi’s hip, taking in the heat and scent of his body. This feels so intimate and quiet, and he's wanted it so long.

Then he leans forward, licking at Javi gently before taking him in, and Javi groans, hips lifting into it. He holds Yuzu’s head gently, cradling him, fingers smoothing over his hair, and Yuzu looks up, watching Javi’s face. Javi looks back, or at least he tries; his eyes keep falling shut with a moan, and his expression is so beautiful when he tips his head back, open-mouthed and gasping.

Yuzu _is_ amazing at this, and he knows it. But it seems like something more is happening with Javi, something deeper than just sex. He doesn't stop talking, murmurs and sighs, telling Yuzu how good it is. _Yuzu, yes, like that, yes._ Javi's always so open and unguarded, and now especially, showing everything he feels.

“God, please," Javi moans, arching his back, fingers tight in Yuzu's hair, and Yuzu gives him what he wants.

The desire in Javi’s soft voice is incredible, like nothing Yuzu's heard from him before. Yuzu shivers all over, moving his head and swallowing hard as Javi comes in his mouth. After, he moves up to kiss Javi, who cups his face again, stroking his temples with his thumbs, pulling him back to look tenderly in his eyes.

“That was good,” Javi says, low. He smiles, small and sweet. “Wonderful.”

Yuzu wants to say so much, because his heart is so full. It was good, and Javi liked it, liked being with him. But he's wary now, after feeling everything before, and he plays it careful, not wanting to push Javi away again.

"I can do better,” Yuzu says, dryly.

Javi laughs. "I don't believe it."

Yuzu lets himself lean in, rubbing the tips of their noses together, before collapsing onto his side with a long sigh. "I need a shower."

Next to him, Javi groans. “Too tired.” Yuzu smacks his thigh, lightly, and then gets up to go rinse off. He looks back as he goes, and Javi smiles sleepily at him.

He’s trying not to think too much, but his heart starts pounding in the shower, speeding up, his chest tight. He's not sure what Javi will say when he gets out, once there’s been a little distance between them. Will he stay? The guys that Yuzu sleeps with in Japan never have, and he isn't used to someone in his space. He’s not used to wanting it, either.

He takes his time drying off, and when he gets out Javi is asleep, snoring lightly. Yuzu just stares at him for a while. Javi, asleep in Yuzu’s bed; shirtless, jeans undone, beautiful and peaceful and almost his.

He's still feeling the weight of his earlier realization, all the responsibility ahead, loving another person this way. In the meantime he takes Javi's pants off, carefully, without waking him, and climbs into bed next to him. He looks at Javi one more time, and then whispers "I love you" to him in English, just to see how it feels, before turning off the light.

*****

While Yuzu takes a shower, Javi stretches out on the bed, luxuriating. He feels powerful and worn out and triumphant, like he's just skated for gold. There’s nothing in Javi’s mind but Yuzu: his taste, his soft skin, the heat of his mouth. The look on his beautiful face, that same desperation and passion from earlier in the week, but with a new contentment, a new satisfaction. Javi had been a little nervous, after saying he’d show Yuzu his best, that he wouldn’t live up to whatever Yuzu had been wanting for so long. It’s been a few years since he last hooked up with a guy, and he knows he’s out of practice. But Yuzu had said he was _wonderful_ , without hesitation, and it was wonderful for Javi too.

Javi can’t even begin to think clearly about tonight, lost in a haze of contentment and the sense that this was even more important than he expected. He gave everything that was in his heart to Yuzu, like he promised, and a few things he didn't even know were there. Once they started, it was like a dam broke inside him, deep and unnameable feelings rushing out. Javi couldn’t have expressed any of them in words, but there they were, out in the open, and it was the same with Yuzu’s feelings, stamped all over his face. It’s always been so much easier for them to talk with their bodies, hugs and caresses standing in for the words they don’t know or can’t say. Tonight felt like that, except stronger, like the warm little circle that’s always been around the two of them was a roaring fire.

Maybe nothing’s been decided, but Javi feels more sure than he has at any other point, about him and Yuzu. He shivers a little, thinking about Yuzu saying "I can do better." Tonight was amazing, but this is Yuzu, after all. He’s almost certainly got something even better up his sleeve. Javi can’t wait to see what comes next.

He yawns and shifts on the bed, suddenly exhausted. He wants to stay up until Yuzu comes out of the shower, say something about how wonderful tonight was, but he’s just barely able to check his phone alarm is set before he drifts off.

The alarm blares much too soon the next morning, and he hauls himself up, trying to turn it off. Yuzu rolls over onto his stomach next to him and groans.

"We have clinic," Javi says, rubbing Yuzu’s back gently. "You have to wake up."

“Eugh," Yuzu says.

"Come on," Javi says, cajoling. "Time to get up."

Yuzu sits up, sighing dramatically, but with a fond, sleepy look in his eyes as he turns toward Javi. Javi reaches over to stroke Yuzu's hair, which is sticking up wildly at all angles, and has to bite back a smile. Seeing Yuzu like this, unguarded and messy and slightly grumpy, fills him with a new kind of tenderness. He leans in for a kiss, ignoring their morning breath. "Good morning," he says. 

Yuzu grins. “Morning."

Javi showers and they get ready, changing around each other the way they do in locker rooms and before competitions. Just before they leave the room Javi pulls Yuzu in for another kiss, long and deep. When they pull apart, Yuzu smiles softly, squeezing his hand once before he opens the door and they step back out into the hotel hallway. Back to work.

Brian gives them a long look when they walk into the rink together, narrowing his eyes. "You know I only said you had to go to dinner, right?"

Javi's face gets hot, and he looks down at his feet, sure he's bright red. "We go to dinner," Yuzu says indignantly, not picking up on the hint.

Brian laughs. "Good, I’m glad. Let’s get ready to have a good clinic today, hmm?"

Clinic feels better than it has all week. Javi hadn’t realized how heavy the tension was until now, how much it weighed everything down. He and Yuzu work together to help some kids with their spins, and it’s so much easier to teach when there’s nothing between them, when they can communicate with a look or a phrase. Javi sees the kids’ faces light up as they start to understand what he and Yuzu are saying. “Nice work,” Brian says, with a smug smile on his face, the closest he’ll get to _I told you so._

Javi’s really aware of Yuzu, the whole day — gesturing in demonstration, circling around the rink, picking kids up when they fall — but in a good way. It gives him a kind of confidence, and he thinks he sees Yuzu, sometimes, watching him out of the corner of his eye too.

Right before the end of the day, he glides up to Yuzu and whispers in his ear. "Come to my place tonight? I’ll make dinner."

Yuzu smiles and nods. "Okay.”

As they leave the Cricket Club, walking through the parking lot toward the bus stop, Yuzu slips his hand into Javi's, squeezing it. Javi squeezes back, feeling his heart suddenly lift.

"You should stay at my place this weekend," he says. "The whole time."

"Sound like really good idea," Yuzu says. "But, not bring so many clothes." He grimaces at his rolling suitcase.

“You won't need them," Javi says.

Javi means that Yuzu can borrow some of his, but when Yuzu coughs a little and turns pink, Javi realizes what that sounded like.

Well. It’s not like he doesn't want to see Yuzu naked a lot this weekend. "We can drop by the hotel if you need," he offers, after a pause.

Yuzu shakes his head. "It’s okay. Let’s go home."

_Home, home_ , Javi thinks, over and over again, as they walk. They board the bus and sit towards the back, Yuzu gripping his suitcase between his knees to keep it from rolling down the aisle. Javi thinks back to when Yuzu arrived, how they rode to Javi’s apartment together while Yuzu dozed and Javi tried to figure out a way around their awkwardness. He feels like he’s gotten a second chance he didn’t deserve, to have Yuzu in his space again. To take care of Yuzu, to be with him. Javi needs to make this chance count.

*****

The next few days are so joyful it's like a dream, like something unreal. As good as when he won in Korea last year, and maybe better, because Yuzu never, ever thought he'd get to have this.

Working together at the rink, all that weird tense energy turned happy and bright. He's sure everyone can tell. He catches Brian giving them this fond, smiling look and heat floods his face. He goes home with Javi that evening and they get it right, eating dinner and cuddling afterwards, until it turns into something more.

Javi reaches up and touches Yuzu’s face when they're sitting on the couch, pulling him in, mouth warm and welcoming.They strip their shirts off as they kiss, and Yuzu pushes Javi back and turns to stretch out over him like that first awful night here. They’re smoothing that memory down now, though, all the tender hurt of their misunderstandings and the rawness of the last week. It feels like Javi is apologizing with every kiss, and Yuzu is too; for making it harder, for not understanding what Javi was trying to say. They’ve always spoken better with their bodies than with their words.

Yuzu loves the evenness of this, compared to how it was in the hotel last night. This is something he wants to do _with_ Javi, and for once it’s not a competition. The hunger in Javi's kisses is astonishing, overwhelming, and the way he holds Yuzu close makes Yuzu tremble in his arms, kissing back urgently. Javi _wants_ this, and it sends a throb of elation through Yuzu with every touch.

They get off like that, rocking together on the couch, murmuring against each other’s mouths. He knows that Javi is only trying, not promising anything yet, but in moments like these it feels like they’re already getting close to everything he’s dreamed of. Javi’s so fond and so passionate, and Yuzu has to think it means maybe his real feelings are deeper than Javi thought. It’s just taking time.

They doze off after, for just a little while, and the smile Javi gives Yuzu when he opens his eyes makes Yuzu’s heart stutter, too much work to keep beating when Javi looks at him like that.

“Hi,” Javi says, and leans in to kiss him softly.

The next day is lazy and happy, waking up late and hanging around the apartment together in the morning. Javi goes to the gym for a while in the afternoon and Yuzu naps, a luxury he didn’t used to take much unless he was resting up before a competition. Doing it in Javi’s bed feels even more luxurious; everything smells like him, and Yuzu lies there a while just looking around the room, appreciating that he’s allowed to be in Javi’s space like this. It’s intimate and thrilling, something he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to.

In the evening Javi makes dinner, something with eggs and cheese and potatoes that he has to flip over in a pan. He only half manages it and Yuzu dissolves into laughter as he frantically tries to fix it, scraping at the underside with a spatula and swearing in English and Spanish. They eat it out of the frying pan after, and it’s not really to Yuzu’s taste but this is something else new, to be eating food Javi made for them, standing up in Javi’s kitchen, his cat winding around their legs.

“I do the dishes now,” Yuzu says, stacking them up.

Javi puts his hand on Yuzu’s wrist. “Leave it. The cleaners will be here on Monday.”

Yuzu pulls free, reaching for another plate. “In my family, people who not cook, do cleaning.”

“In my family too,” Javi says, and smiles. “That’s why it’s fun to live on your own.”

Yuzu just shakes his head and carries the plates to the sink. “Your way of fun is living in mess. Not my way.”

He loads the dishwasher and Javi just watches, sitting at the bar counter and leaning his chin on his hand, smiling fondly.Yuzu cleans the stove too, just for good measure. Javi rolls his eyes, yawning for show.

Javi takes him to bed, later. It was good napping alone here today, but it’s even better here together.

The next morning is even better than that. They wake up slow and explore each other's bodies, stopping again and again to get caught up in kissing, deep and warm. It's incredible, getting to touch Javi like this, the way Yuzu’s always wanted. He’s seen Javi without his clothes so many times but there's something about getting to discover him anew; the firmness of muscle, all the unexpected soft places.

Javi's brown eyes are so sweet and wide when Yuzu finally reaches down and strokes him, lightly, and his mouth falls open, breathing faster. He looks as stunned as Yuzu feels.

Finally Javi rolls onto his side and cups Yuzu’s cheek, kissing him as they lie face to face. Yuzu keeps stroking him, moving faster now, loving how firm and hot Javi feels under his hand. Javi moans against his mouth, hips rocking, and stops when he's close, sucking Yuzu's lower lip into his mouth as he goes tense all over. Suddenly there’s the wet warmth of his orgasm, spilling over Yuzu’s fingers, and Javi cries out soft and high, his fingers tight on Yuzu’s jaw. Yuzu feels like he's burning up, it's so much.

Then Javi pushes him onto his back and lies on top, kissing Yuzu breathless before moving lower. Now it's Yuzu being touched and explored, as Javi licks his nipples, kisses his belly and thighs. When Javi finally takes him in, it’s almost too much, just to feel the slick heat of his mouth.

The room is sunlit and warm, in the full flush of summer. Javi tilts his head, looking up through his thick lashes, and his shoulders are broad and bare, his lean arms rounded with muscle. Yuzu’s throat goes so tight he can hardly breathe for a moment, just looking at him, and then he groans and puts his hands on Javi's curly head, closing his eyes to make it through.

The mood of it lasts the rest of the day. Yuzu feels like he's tingling all over, perfectly happy. Even little touches make his body sing; holding hands, exchanging glances. Yuzu's never felt so young and safe and joyful all at once.

He finally comes down to earth when he sees the text message from his mother. It’s nothing important, but it reminds him that there's a real world outside this apartment.

“OK if I make phone call there?” Yuzu asks, nodding his head toward the bedroom. He gestures with his phone. “Mama.”

Javi glances up from his own phone, looking over at Yuzu from where he’s sitting next to him on the couch. “Of course.”

Yuzu doesn’t close the door behind him. Javi won't understand, and anyway, he doesn't want to shut him out.

They don't talk about anything serious, just catching up on daily life. She wants to know if he's eating at the restaurants they like and getting his laundry taken care of, and how Brian's doing. It’s so strange, being in Toronto without her, especially when he isn't telling her what's changed with Javi.

Sometimes he thinks she knows. She’s never asked about Javi often, but whenever she does Yuzu gets the feeling she knows it's important. He does tell her he's staying with Javi for the weekend, realizing he should have let her know before.

“You gave up your nice room?” she asks, surprised. “You were so excited about it.”

“It's boring at the hotel," he says, laughing. "Javi said I should stay here."

"I hope you're being a good guest," his mom says, and Yuzu says " _Mama_ ,” offended. “I’m doing the dishes.”

"Take him out for dinner," she insists.

“OK," he tells her.

There's a short pause, and then she asks, "Do you miss it?"

It's the same thing she asked after the ice shows. He told her he missed performing for audiences, especially in Japan, but not the competition. Now it's different, though, because she means Toronto, and Brian, and training. Other skaters. His old life.

“It's nice to see people again," Yuzu hedges. "I missed them."

"I know you love being around Javi," she says. "I hope you two are having a good time. Tell him to come visit someday."

"I will," he says. "I guess I better go take him out to dinner now."

When he comes out of the bedroom Javi's on the couch, playing a game again. Javi pauses it and looks up with a bright smile. "Good talk?"

"She says, I should take you for dinner," Yuzu says, curling up next to him. "Next turn is mine."

Javi starts the game again. "Your mom wants you to take me out on a date?" he asks, staring at the screen.

“For dinner," Yuzu repeats.

He thinks he hears something in Javi's voice, though, for the first time since Thursday he starts thinking of all the realities. Long distance dating, all the time. Telling Brian, their families. The public. Javi's career. Whatever comes next for Yuzu. It's so much, and it crashes down on him like an ugly weight, all these outside considerations. For a moment he feels sick, like he’s just waiting for all this to be snatched away.

But that’s for later, and he doesn’t want it intruding into this perfect, happy bubble they've been in. Yuzu snuggles in tighter, dropping his head against Javi’s shoulder. They have another week together, and he knows how to shut out things that are bothering him, focusing on what matters. He won't think about this now.

He does take Javi out for dinner, enjoying paying for it. He's never done that with anyone before, and it really does feel like a date, more than their dinners ever have. He lets Javi pick the place, a seafood restaurant around the corner, and he imagines doing this all the time; taking turns choosing dinner, having regular places they visit together. A routine, a life.

It never got like that when he was training here before. They went out to Issmi a few times with his mother and he came over to Javi’s for a party once, and another time to talk about their practice schedule, when things were getting rough during his last season. He never stayed long, and he never asked for much. His time in Toronto was always so constrained, here to work and learn, and his growing feelings for Javi were always pushed to the background, an inconvenience to them both. Yuzu didn’t have time to be in love and Javi didn’t want it from him anyway.

Now Javi smiles at him across the table and holds his hand under it. He talks and Yuzu listens, not always understanding every word but loving the energy in Javi’s voice, and the low, sweet emotion in the way he looks at Yuzu. All those years he satisfied himself with this, the pleasure of just being close to Javi, feeling his lively warmth spilling over, but now there’s the memory of this morning and the promise of more ahead, changing everything. Having this is so much better than he imagined it could be.

On the walk home, something comes over Yuzu. He takes Javi's arm, moving in close enough to speak low in his ear.

“So, I take you out," he says. He has to think for a minute, get his English planned out. "I think that mean, you're mine tonight."

Javi doesn't say anything back for a minute. Yuzu expected him to tease back, play along with the joke, but he seems serious. Finally, Javi clears his throat. "Okay," he says softly, strained. "I'm yours tonight."

He pulls Yuzu's arm a little closer, bringing up his other hand to rest over Yuzu's for a moment, squeezing. They walk home in silence.

Yuzu thinks, all the way. Wonders what Javi meant by that, what Javi thinks _he_ meant. Communicating in a third language is hard. He finally decides, as they go up Javi's steps, that he'll play it like he usually does, letting expression and body language do most of the work.

So inside, he takes Javi's hand and pulls him towards the bedroom. Not the guest room, where he slept Monday night, but the room where they’ve been sleeping together. Yuzu has the right to be here now, in Javi’s private space.

Javi follows, letting Yuzu guide him. Yuzu reaches to turn on the small bedside light, and sees that Javi has the same wide, nervous smile he puts on when someone's speaking a language he doesn't understand. It’s touching, but Yuzu finds he likes having Javi be a little off balance, too. He reaches out, putting his hand on Javi’s face.

"Right now?" Javi says, strained like before. It sounds as though he’s teasing, but also like he just needs something to say.

“Now," Yuzu says, and kisses him.

This is their other shared language, one they've already learned so well, though it's only been a few days. He feels Javi relaxing, kissing back, and he slides one hand under Javi’s shirt along the warm curve of his back, the other going to Javi’s buttons. Javi lets out a soft moan, kissing him more intensely.

Yuzu loves undressing Javi, feeling his body under his hands. Javi's pliant in his arms tonight, letting Yuzu open his shirt and push it off his shoulders. Yuzu kisses along Javi’s collarbone, his neck, his chest, and then undoes his belt and jeans. Javi’s breathing hard now, hands resting on Yuzu’s shoulders. He lets Yuzu take down his pants and caress his hips, and then he breaks away, lying back on the bed to finish undressing himself.

Yuzu takes off his own clothes and that feels powerful, somehow, doing it while Javi watches him. He strips his shirt over his head and pushes down his track pants and briefs, standing naked for a moment. Javi’s still looking, and Yuzu stares back. Then he gets onto the bed and lies down over Javi, kissing him again, deep and hungry.

“Mine," he says, softly, a question. He kisses Javi’s jaw, his neck.

Javi doesn't say anything, just nods against him, eyes closed. Yuzu can feel how fast he's breathing, and he seems keyed up, trembling. Yuzu doesn’t think of the impact of that word, of everything this moment means, because Javi needs something from him. Needs Yuzu to take the lead, at last.

He kisses Javi’s mouth again, firmly, trying to steady him. "It’s OK, I have you," he murmurs. Javi moans, clutching at his shoulders, but he leans up for another kiss.

It's thrilling to feel Javi go down under him, quiet and clinging. It's happening so fast, and it's never been this way for Yuzu before. He's been with men who let him do everything, but it was always without real emotion beyond the fondness of the moment. Sex has never really meant anything in his life, because Yuzu never let it, never expected it to. Feeling _Javi_ giving him this is almost too much.

For a moment he hesitates, thinking about backing off. It's been so good, these last few days, to finally have what he’s wanted for so long. Pushing things just made Javi anxious before, instead of moving them forward.

Now, though, he thinks Javi is waiting for him. Soft and willing, even as he’s trembling, and his hands still tight on Yuzu’s shoulders, holding him close. And Javi said it earlier — _I’m yours tonight_. Whatever happens after this, Yuzu has to know what it was like to be this close, just once.

So he turns away and pulls open the bedside drawer, not sure what he'll find inside. He feels Javi go tense under him, letting out a small, breathy noise, but he just clutches Yuzu’s arm, thumb stroking. There's Vaseline in the drawer, and condoms, and Javi still doesn't say anything as Yuzu takes them out.

When Yuzu starts to open the jar Javi looks up at him, and their eyes meet for a long minute. He’s wide eyed and breathing hard, but he doesn't look away. Finally he shuts his eyes, sighing, and moves his hand to curl around the back of Yuzu's neck.

Yuzu takes in a quick breath, and moves down the bed.

He's careful, gentle, kissing Javi everywhere as he touches him. He wants to show Javi how precious he is, as he readies him as delicately as he can, mouthing his cock at the same time. Javi moans as he does it, thighs quivering, holding Yuzu’s shoulders. He’s letting Yuzu in tonight, giving himself over, but Yuzu doesn't mean to take advantage of that — he wants to love Javi, make him feel good, happy with his decision. He wants this to have been worthwhile.

Yuzu doesn't know how to put all that into English, so he just says, quietly, "I take care of you" and finally moves back up the bed to kiss Javi again.

Javi whimpers softly as they kiss, not opening his eyes. It seems like he's gone far under, breathing shallow and fast, his fingers still clasping Yuzu's bare shoulders.

Yuzu kisses over his face and throat, light and loving. "Javi," he murmurs. "My Javi."

It's what he said the other night, what sent a chill over things, making Javi pull away. But tonight Javi only sighs and draws him closer, speaking at last. "Yes," he breathes. It seems like he's going to say something else, but he just shakes his head and kisses Yuzu again.

And then he shifts, letting it happen.

Yuzu knows he'll never forget this. Javi tense at first, holding his shoulders tight, giving way as Yuzu rocks into him. The breathless pause when Yuzu’s fully inside, both of them lost in kissing, slick and heady. How it feels when Yuzu begins to move at last, slow, easing into it. Javi keeps his eyes closed, and Yuzu holds his breath, trying to get it right.

Finally Javi groans, arching his back, and opens his eyes. “ _Yuzu_ ,” he whispers, and moves his hands to cup Yuzu’s face.

His eyes are bright, his mouth soft and open. The electricity between them is so strong, and they don't need words as he pulls Yuzu down into another kiss. Yuzu feels everything, and he knows, in this moment, that Javi does too.

It gets better after that, and then even better. He can't think of anything but the way Javi feels under him, and making him feel good. _Fucking_ him, feeling the force of their bodies together, the pleasure growing between them. Javi's warm hands on his face, and the needy sounds he makes, his hips rocking up. Even if this is only for tonight, this brief time, Yuzu knows it’s worth it. When Javi finally gasps out Yuzu’s name, desperate, pressed against his neck as he shakes all over, Yuzu tucks the memory away to keep with him forever.

Javi watches as Yuzu finishes, his eyes so sleepy and gentle that Yuzu can hardly look down at him. Yuzu moans, pained, even as Javi caresses his cheeks softly. It feels like Javi can see everything in his heart now, and Yuzu closes his eyes when he comes, his face so hot under Javi’s tender hands.

He keeps himself awake, after. They rest together in the lamplight, touching sleepily, kissing every so often. Javi keeps sighing, content, stroking Yuzu’s hair as he leans over for another kiss.

Yuzu imagines it could be like this always. No outside concerns pulling them apart; no competition or training or oceans between them, just them in their own world. He knows this isn’t real, not yet, but holding Javi, feeling him fall asleep in his arms, he lets himself pretend for just a little longer.

In the early morning dark, he wakes to feel Javi looking at him. Yuzu blinks, and then he reaches up to touch Javi's face. Javi leans into it, smiling, and takes Yuzu's hand and kisses his fingertips.

"Did you tell your mother about...us?" Javi asks, quietly.

And Yuzu looks at him, the dreamy warmth of the last few days fading at last. There’s something strange in Javi’s voice. Yuzu blinks again, and this time it feels like he’s really awake. He’s wary now, tensing up, as the outside world comes rushing in. "Why are you asking?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! Thanks so much to everyone for the awesome and encouraging feedback this week — we’ve been so excited to share this story and so happy people have enjoyed it. :)

Javi can’t remember the last time he had a weekend this nice. It feels like a vacation, almost, like he’s come untethered from his responsibilities and worries and can just enjoy himself. Enjoy being with Yuzu. He doesn’t have to hold anything back, either. He can kiss and touch, get lost in the warmth of Yuzu’s body, tease and flirt while they make dinner, sit next to Yuzu in companionable silence. It’s easy and natural, like they’ve been doing this for years instead of just a couple days. Javi’s just _happy,_ in a way he hasn’t been in a while, a deep, pure contentment.

That’s nothing compared to how happy Yuzu is, though. He lights up with joy, giddy and incandescent, a shooting star. As they doze on the couch on Friday night, Yuzu in Javi’s arms, it suddenly hits home for Javi: _he’s this happy because of me._ He feels like someone handed him a jewel, something rare and precious to guard, and it takes his breath away. When Yuzu blinks awake a little while later, Javi grins at him and watches him glow in response, soaking it in.

It’s addictive, making Yuzu happy, and Javi finds all the little ways he can to keep it going. Reaching out to caress Yuzu’s face, making him a cup of tea in the morning, telling him how good he looks and how amazing he is in bed. The joy that sparks from Yuzu lights Javi up too, until they’re both burning with it.

Javi doesn’t realize how far he’s drifted from his everyday life until Yuzu disappears to call his mom. He’d almost forgotten that there were other people outside this apartment, other things happening in their lives. Javi messes around with a video game while Yuzu talks, not really concentrating on it. Mostly he’s listening to Yuzu’s voice, swift and flowing, with a warmth and confidence it never has in English. Javi feels a twinge, wishing he was fluent in Japanese, that Yuzu could speak to him from the heart unfiltered and unhindered. At this point, English is as much Javi’s language as Spanish, but it’s not like that for Yuzu, and this imbalance between them has never felt fair, especially not now.

Then again, he thinks as Yuzu comes back into the room, grinning at him and scrunching up his nose, they don’t do so bad as they are. “Good talk?” he asks.

“She says, I should take you for dinner,” Yuzu says, and Javi’s a little stunned. Apparently she doesn’t mean it like a date, but after the other day with Brian, Javi’s not so sure. What other reason would she have to suggest it?

Yuzu asks him where he wants to eat, and after a little surreptitious Googling on his phone to make sure the menu is Yuzu-friendly, Javi picks the seafood place that he’s always wanted to try. They walk there hand in hand, Yuzu opening the door for him with the air of a showman, as if he built the restaurant just for the two of them.

It’s an unfamiliar role to Javi, being the one who’s taken out. He likes to play the gentleman — setting up the date, pulling out the chair, paying. But with Yuzu, he wants things to be balanced, a more even kind of togetherness. Giving and taking. It's nice taking care of Yuzu, but it's just as nice when Yuzu takes care of him.

And then Yuzu slips his arm through Javi's and murmurs, “You’re mine tonight.”

Javi’s not completely sure what Yuzu means by it — taking charge in bed, maybe — and Yuzu’s voice is light and teasing, like it’s a joke. But whatever Yuzu’s thinking, Javi wants to find out.

"Okay," he says, and is surprised by how hoarse his voice sounds, how quiet. "I'm yours tonight." His heart is racing in anticipation.

Yuzu pulls Javi into the bedroom as soon as they get back in the apartment, bold and firm, kissing him with confidence. It sends a thrill through Javi, Yuzu taking charge like this. He makes a quiet little resolution in his head, as they kiss — Yuzu can do whatever he wants tonight. Javi can't think of a single thing Yuzu could want that he wouldn't want to give.

And so he lets Yuzu undress him, lays himself out on the bed for Yuzu, ready and waiting.

Slowly, gently, with infinite tenderness, Yuzu proceeds to take Javi apart. Javi gives himself completely to it, abandoning himself to the sensations in his body, Yuzu’s caressing hands and soft, warm mouth. It’s overwhelming, like nothing he's ever felt, and it scares him a little but mostly he never wants it to stop.

It turns out Yuzu was right, the other night, when he said he could do better. This is better. Every single thing keeps getting better and better. Javi's drowning in it, so deep under he feels like he'll never come up. He thinks they could power a city, with the electricity between them. Break more records if they could translate these feelings to steps.

"My Javi," Yuzu murmurs, and Javi doesn't even flinch, because it's true. He’s Yuzu's.

"Yes,” Javi pants, and he thinks there's more he wants to say, but he can't figure out how to say it.

And then — and then he pretty much stops being able to think, for a long time, his whole world narrowing down to his body and Yuzu above him. He keeps his eyes fixed on Yuzu for as long as he can, holding onto his face like a lifeline. Javi can’t get many words out, lost in the burning heat of their bodies together, but he hopes Yuzu can see it in his face, how much this means to him. How happy he is in this moment.

He comes to, later, like he's just washed up on shore, lazily running his hand up Yuzu's side, the two of them kissing every so often. That intensity is still lingering in the air, heavy and warm like a blanket, but Javi's too tired to do more than curl into Yuzu's arms.

It’s early morning, still dark, when he wakes up next. He’s let go of Yuzu in his sleep, rolling away slightly, but it doesn’t seem to have disturbed him. One of Yuzu’s eyes is partway open, something Yuzu warned him about — “it scare my family too much, but it just normal.” And it is a little alarming at first, if Javi’s being honest, but he mostly just feels fond, watching Yuzu sleep. Even with his eye rolled back and his hair all over the place, Yuzu’s beautiful. His face is peaceful in slumber, the creases around his mouth and eyes smoothed, and one of his arms is flung out like he’s skating in his dreams. Javi hopes they’re good dreams, ones where he’s landing quads and skating clean.

Javi can’t get back to sleep, restless and full of too many emotions, that intensity from earlier in the evening coming back to him full force. He almost can’t believe how much he’s feeling — his heart’s gone so much further than he expected it to, in just these few days. Their time in Japan seems like a century ago, and even the beginning of the week is like it happened in another life.

His feelings about Yuzu, so uncertain just the other day, have solidified without him noticing. All that stop and start from before, all that panic, seems silly now. How could he ever have thought he wouldn’t want this?

Javi gazes at Yuzu, and suddenly it’s like earlier, like words are stuck in his chest that he can’t get out, except he might know what they are now. He wants to try something — in English, the way it’d have to be for Yuzu. Javi takes a deep breath and whispers into the dark, “I love you.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he’s terrified. It’s so much, so big, and he doesn’t know if he could say it to Yuzu for real, yet. But — he thinks it might be true. It’s closer than it's ever been to being true, at least. Shit, he’s falling in love with Yuzu, that’s why he’s been so happy.

A whole bunch of other thoughts come in, in the shock of realizing that. They’ve been acting like they have all the time in the world, luxuriating in each other’s presence. But they’ve only got a week left. And then it’ll be back to the grind for him, training hard and preparing for the season. Meanwhile, Yuzu will be back in Japan, living his own life, shows and appearances and family.

Javi’s been competing long enough to know that every season is like a whirlwind, snatching you up in September and setting you down in April with barely a moment to yourself in between. He and Miki used to try to visit each other during the season, but that was always hard and stressful to coordinate, and taking a few days off training messed up his rhythm.

Maybe he could get away with sneaking in visits with Yuzu if he was younger, but at this point in his career, Javi needs as much focus and consistency as he can get. “You can make yourself proud if you work hard and keep a clear head,” Brian told him, during their conversation about this season. How can he keep his head clear if his heart’s in Japan with Yuzu?

An image pops into his head, before he can stop himself: calling Yuzu from hotel rooms at time zones that are wrong for both of them, exhausted and stressed and lonely. Thinking about it makes Javi’s throat close up and his chest tighten. He wants this so badly but there’s so much in the way, it’s overwhelming him. How’s it all going to work? Do they even have a chance?

And besides that, they haven’t told anyone about this thing between them yet, or talked about what comes next. But what happens when they let other people in, other things? Maybe Yuzu has, already — his mom told him to take Javi to dinner, after all. That must mean something.

Yuzu stirs, then, making a soft noise that isn’t quite a word. He opens his eyes all the way, then reaches for Javi, instinctively. Javi kisses Yuzu's fingertips, and he can't help smiling. After a pause, he just asks what he's been thinking.

"Did you tell your mother about...us?" he asks, and Yuzu goes still, like he wasn't expecting that.

“Why are you asking?" he says, not an answer.

"She told you to take me to dinner," Javi says. "I thought maybe you told her what was going on."

Yuzu shakes his head. “She just wanting me to be a good guest," he explains. “Not just eat your food."

Javi's disappointed, oddly. Maybe Yuzu can tell, because he keeps talking. "I think she know how I feel about you. It’s been a long time I have this feeling." Javi's heart surges, hearing that. "She always say, 'I know you miss Javi, tell Javi come visit.’ And she always know me even when I don’t talk about thing. She understand my feeling without words."

Javi’s reminded of their first kiss in Japan, Yuzu murmuring _finally._ "You said that before, that it’s been a long time. How long has it been that you’ve felt this way?”

Yuzu's eyes shift away, and he hesitates. Javi strokes his cheek, encouragingly. “Years,” Yuzu finally says.

“Years?" Javi asks. “More than one?”

Yuzu nods, once. “Not that important anymore," he says.

Javi’s not sure how to feel about that. He leans back on his pillows, soaking it in, as the silence stretches around them. “You know we have to figure stuff out, right?” Javi says finally. “We can’t keep not talking about it and think that everything is going to work itself out.”

Yuzu sighs. "I know, but it's too many thing right now. I’m not here for long time, I just want to...enjoy you.” His face scrunches up in thought. “Enjoy _with_ you. Enough time for problems later."

Javi wants to protest, but he can't blame Yuzu. He’s not exactly eager to jump right into figuring out all the details. He looks at the clock. It’s still pretty early, but they have to be at clinic this morning, and they should probably start getting ready soon.

"Okay," Javi says, finally. "But we should talk about it tonight."

Yuzu considers this. "Fine, yeah."

And maybe Javi should be preoccupied with that impending conversation, trying to work it out ahead of time. But all through the rest of the morning, Javi can't stop thinking about _years_.

Yuzu felt this way for years, and Javi never knew. Maybe never would have known, if not for that night in Japan. Was that Yuzu's plan, to keep it secret? To never try? Did he look at the obstacles between them and instinctively choose to retreat?

Javi pictures Yuzu pouring his passion into skating, instead. Keeping his feelings locked up so they never get damaged. Yuzu's used to giving things up, and he's good at it. He’s disciplined. He’s self-sacrificing. It wouldn't be hard for him.

Cold dread floods Javi's stomach. What if this is Yuzu's plan, now, for them? To sidestep all the problems by giving up? Yuzu knows how Javi feels about him now. He knows his feelings aren't one-sided. That, and the memories of this week, might be enough for him. If things seem like they’re going to be too hard — with the time difference, with the media, with everyone knowing his business — Yuzu might just let it go.

Javi can't do that, though. He can't live on theories and memories and self-control. If he really does love Yuzu, he has to act on it. He has to try being with Yuzu for real, even if it doesn’t work out, and it terrifies him to think Yuzu might not be willing to try like that.

But he holds onto the promise of their coming conversation. Maybe together, they can work something out. Javi has to believe it’s possible.

*****

At the rink the next day, Yuzu is _sure_ that Brian knows. He keeps getting this distant smile, looking between the two of them, and once when he’s talking with Javi he says something quietly that makes Javi go red, coughing as he turns away. Yuzu tries to ignore it, focusing on the kids and the work. He doesn't think they're acting that differently now, other than actually talking to each other, but Brian always picks up on little things.

At lunch Brian takes Javi into his office, alone. Yuzu eats by himself on the bench by the rink, glancing over at the office door every so often, wondering. They're gone most of lunch, and then Brian opens the door and looks at Yuzu. "Coach evaluations," he says, and gestures inside.

Oh. He supposes technically he is Brian's employee for the clinic. Yuzu throws away the remains of his lunch and follows Brian into the office. He meets Javi's eyes as they pass each other, and Javi seems like he's about to say something, but then one of the little girls tackles him around the knees. He grins, helplessly, and follows her onto the ice.

Now it's just Yuzu, alone with Brian. He goes in through the open door, and Brian shuts it behind him.

He’s somewhat surprised by the fact that Brian starts off the conversation with an actual coaching evaluation. Yuzu can follow most of it easily, because it's about skating, and Brian has mostly good things to say to him. It's a relief that part of the trip has been working out, at least.

"I'm glad to see you here," Brian says, wrapping up. "We've missed you. It's not the same with you gone from the circuit."

Yuzu nods his head. "I miss you guys too."

Brian shuffles through some notes. "You've done some good work this week. I mean, obviously the kids sign up in part for the names, but still, you worked well with them. I think you have a future as a coach. You're probably already thinking about it." He folds his hands and looks up. "I think it's a mistake."

Yuzu blinks at him. "Sorry?”

Brian clears his throat. "You retired too early, Yuzuru. Watching you this week…you’re still at the top of your game, even now. I'm not saying you could win a third Olympics, but there are all the other competitions, too. More things to win."

"I already winning a lot of competitions," Yuzu says carefully. "I have medals at home."

Brian quirks a smile. "I appreciate that. But — it's not just you, Yuzuru. You set the pace for everyone when you were skating. I'm not saying there aren't a lot of talented men competing right now. But you're something special, and you made everyone around you better."

His face gets serious, and he drops his chin to look at Yuzuru more directly. "You made Javier better."

Yuzu feels heat in his face. "Oh," he says, and can't think what else to say.

"I'm not going to ask about, uh, your private lives. I know there's always been something special between you two. I know you care about him. All I'm saying is — consider returning. For the sake of the sport, and your fellow skaters, if not for yourself."

Yuzu nods, automatically. He doesn't think Brian expects an answer. Brian stands and he does too, following him to the door.

Brian lets him go through first. "Oh, and Yuzuru? Whatever happens, I want you back here next summer. You've skipped out on my camps for too many years."

Yuzu smiles, nodding again, and walks towards the rink.

He thinks about it all afternoon. He's never really considered coming back to competition, for any reason, but now Brian's given him a new one. As the day winds down, new concerns come into his head. _We'll figure it out tonight,_ Javi said, like everything could be settled so quick.

Yuzu has to laugh a little. Javi held out against this so long, unsure, and now it seems like he's all in, charging ahead of even Yuzu.

Javi's like that, impulsive and passionate, guided more by his emotions. Brian was always on him about it in training. He let small setbacks get to him too much, derailing their plans, and it frustrated them both. At the same time, Javi can be so calm and cool when it matters in competition, relaxing into it without worrying. Yuzu’s had to work hard at that, but for Javi it’s natural, and it’s part of why Yuzu loves him.

Still, it's hard to know what to expect tonight. He doesn't know what Javi even thinks they can decide on, so soon. Everything in their lives is so complicated, and it's not like they can resolve it all in one night. Maybe Javi just wants to clear the air, say all the things Yuzu felt from him the last few days, or hoped he felt.

That thought cheers Yuzu up, snapping him out of his reverie, and he smiles broadly at Javi as they meet in the locker room at the end of the day. "Pizza?"

They go back to Javi's place and order in, just hanging around while they wait. Yuzu answers overdue email and texts on his phone, and Javi watches TV. They watch something else while they eat, and then the air gets a little tense once the movie finishes. Yuzu has the feeling they'd both like to put this off. But Javi's the one who wanted to talk, so Yuzu finally looks at him, silent and expectant, until Javi looks back.

"Talk?" Yuzu asks. Javi looks over at him, with a guilty start, and rubs his hand through his hair.

“Yeah," he says, looking at the ceiling, and then sighs. "Uh. I guess this is all…complicated, huh."

“Yeah," Yuzu says. He waits.

"You live in Japan," Javi says, still looking up. "I live here. And I guess neither of us wants to be, uh, public about this right now."

"This?" Yuzu asks. Javi finally looks at him.

"Um," Javi says, turning a little red. His eyes are bright.

Yuzu keeps waiting. He's waited a long time. For years, he thought it was fine, to feel like this and keep quiet.

Javi knows how he feels now; knows everything, in fact, after Yuzu spilling the rest when he was half-awake this morning. He knows that Yuzu's serious, that this means something. He knows, Yuzu hopes, that it's all or nothing now.

He could ask Javi if his answer from last week has changed, if he knows how he feels. He's not sure he'd get a real answer, doing that. The only way, he thinks, is for Javi to say it without being asked.

And so he waits.

Finally Javi clears his throat and speaks, so low and strained Yuzu can barely hear him. “This," Javi murmurs. "I want this to be real. You and me. I feel…” Javi clears his throat again. "I know that it hasn't been as long for me, but I think I can — I do — feel the same."

Yuzu's been waiting for this so long, it hardly feels real. He wants to lean across the couch and grab Javi, kiss him hard, feel the strength and warmth of his body. But it seems like there's something else in the air, and Yuzu makes himself stay sitting where he is, waiting for it.

His voice still cracks when he asks, gently, "But?"

Javi licks his lips before he speaks. "But I'm not sure that I can be so far away from you all the time. Miki — she couldn’t visit often, and that was hard enough. Only seeing you, maybe a few times a year — that would be harder."

Yuzu takes in a deep breath, planning out his words. "What if I’m not in Japan all the time," he says, slowly.

Javi frowns at him.

"Brian says today, I should come back. To skating. To competition."

Javi blinks. "But you — you've never really lived in Toronto. You've always trained at home. It would change everything for you."

Yuzu smiles. "Yeah. Maybe it's good change?"

"Where would you — you always had your mother, and your condo. Where would you even — ?”

Yuzu can see the wheels spinning in Javi's head, and he smiles. For once, Javi's brain is ahead of his heart. “Maybe Mama comes too," he says, lightly. "I don't know, maybe I'm not good skater anymore — ”

"You're great," Javi cuts in, without stopping to think. "You're still the best, Yuzu, and you…” He finally stops, and it seems to hit. “You'd come back? For me?"

“For many reason," Yuzu says, but he goes on, fondly, "For you too. But, what do you think? I know, many other problem, but if I’m living here — better? More easy? You could…try?"

*****

Javi’s head is a mess on Monday at clinic, still stuck on the early morning conversation with Yuzu, and so he’s kind of relieved when Brian pulls him into his office for a coaching evaluation. He could use a break from trying to focus on the lessons.

Brian does these evaluations every year, and it's been pretty helpful in the past. And he has lots of positive feedback this time. "Your coaching skills have really gotten stronger over the past couple years," he tells Javi, smiling. “You always help make this program good for the kids, and I really appreciate it. I think you could do some really great work with kids in the future, if that’s something you’re interested in."

Javi can't help smiling — he loves the clinics, and it feels good to hear that Brian thinks he's doing good work with them. He imagines himself a few years down the road, running a clinic on his own, or teaching a class of beginning skaters, and it’s a nice thought.

Brian clears his throat, and pulls a notebook off the towering stack of papers on his desk. "So. Now that this is almost over. Time to talk about this year. How are you feeling about the season?"

Javi sighs. Trust Brian to bring up the one thing he’s been avoiding. Back in the spring, he hadn’t wanted to think much about next season, telling himself he’d relax first, and after the ice shows, the clinic and Yuzu were the only things on his mind. Even now that Brian’s brought it up, the season still feels distant and faint, compared to these two weeks. His whole attention has been focused on this thing between him and Yuzu, with no room for anything else.

Brian's giving him that look that means he thinks Javi's about to lie to him. "I don't know," Javi tells him honestly. "I haven't thought about it."

Brian nods. "I understand, you've been focusing on clinic," he says. "But it’ll be here before you know it."

"I know," Javi says, a little too harshly. He doesn’t need a reminder.

"I know you've been having fun, but it's almost time to get back to work. What are you looking forward to most about the season?" Brian asks. “Maybe it’ll help if you think about that.”

Javi stares down at his lap. He probably should say something about skating in Spain, or trying for that sixth gold at Euros, or doing “Malagueña” again. The reasons why he’d wanted to come back. But none of that seems as important, right now. Even if he has the best season of his career, he’ll still have to do it without Yuzu.

"I don't know," he says, after a long silence.

Brian frowns. "I thought you were excited about this year." He looks Javi right in the eyes, his expression concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Javi swallows. He doesn’t really want to talk about it, although he’s pretty sure Brian knows there’s something going on between him and Yuzu. It’d be embarrassing to admit that he’s letting his feelings distract him from his last season in competition. But he can’t just say nothing.

“I still want to skate, I just —” Javi trails off. “This summer has been so nice.” He can hear a rough edge in his voice, and he leaves it at that, not trusting himself to say anything more.

“Uh-huh,” Brian says, slowly, like Javi’s just told him a lot more than that one sentence. “Well, I think it couldn’t hurt to concentrate on the good things that can happen this season. If you stay focused like I know you can, you’re going to have a great year.”

"Okay," Javi says, vaguely.

Brian stands up. "Okay, you get back to the kids. It's Yuzu's turn."

As Javi leaves the office, he glances over at Yuzu, wondering what Brian's going to say to him. Probably some stuff about how good he's been. He has been good, and the kids love him, and ever since they stopped avoiding each other it's been fun teaching with him.

Javi feels sick, thinking about all this ending. The conversation with Brian was a reminder of how soon Yuzu will be gone. They’re going to talk tonight, and maybe they can figure some things out, but that won't change the fact that Yuzu has to leave.

Javi wants to be optimistic about the distance, that it won’t be so hard, but he knows better, after Miki. Even when things were good between them, it wasn’t easy. Scheduling phone calls, sending her messages and knowing she couldn’t answer them for hours, wishing for more time together. A few weeks in the summer and the occasional visit during the season never felt like enough. And then they faded away, in a way they probably wouldn’t have if the two of them were in the same place.

The thought of that happening with Yuzu terrifies Javi, but he doesn’t really see how else things could go. He’s already been in a long-distance relationship with someone who lived in Japan, and it didn’t end well. What reason does he have to think this time would be any different?

Yuzu deserves better than that, and Javi knows it’d break his own heart, too. Even just thinking about Yuzu leaving Toronto brings a lump to his throat. These next four days feel infinitely precious, a last golden time before he has to go back to a lonely apartment, an empty bed.

Javi shakes himself, trying to calm down. He really must care about Yuzu, if he's feeling this bad. _This is why you didn't want this in the first place_ , he reminds himself, unhelpfully. He knew all the problems, but his heart didn't listen, and now he’s fallen for someone who lives half a world away and sends approximately three texts a year.

Javi doesn't get a chance to ask Yuzu what Brian said to him, when they emerge from the office. They just get back to work. Javi throws himself into teaching, trying his best not to think about anything else, and by the time Yuzu suggests they order pizza, he feels like he’s back to normal.

Back at Javi’s place, they eat, and watch TV, and the tension rises steadily as the evening goes on. Javi stalls, not wanting to start the conversation. He has a feeling it might end up hurting. He wants this to work, so badly, but he knows they have to face up to the fact that it might not be able to.

"Talk?" Yuzu says, and Javi startles a little.

He starts to stammer out something about the problems, the complications they're facing. It’s so hard to actually say what he's been thinking, the good or the bad. "I guess neither of us wants to be, uh, public about this right now," he says, trying to buy himself some time.

"This?" Yuzu presses, and heat floods Javi, his heart pounding. He looks over at Yuzu, whose hands are folded in his lap, holding himself still and tense as he waits for Javi.

It takes Javi a long time, and a lot of deep breaths, but finally he admits it, voice so shaky he can barely get the words out: "I want this to be real. You and me."

Yuzu's face brightens at that, his mouth forming a little o, but he must sense Javi's hesitation, because it fades, replaced with concern. “But?" Yuzu asks, his voice cracking.

Javi wants to sink through the floor as he tells Yuzu what he's been worrying about, all the problems with their being apart. He knows he has to be honest with Yuzu, but he hates this. He's sure he's breaking Yuzu's heart again and it's the last thing he wants to do.

But Yuzu gets this thoughtful expression on his face that Javi wasn't expecting, like he's just figured something out. He puts a finger to his chin.

"What if I’m not in Japan all the time," he says, and Javi's not sure what he means. Where else would he be?

"Brian says today, I should come back," Yuzu continues. “To skating. To competition.”

Javi's whole world tilts and lurches, his head spinning. He has a million thoughts at once, and he peppers Yuzu with questions automatically, until the full meaning of it hits him.

"You'd come back? For me?" Javi asks, still in disbelief.

"For many reason," Yuzu says, "for you, too," and he looks right at Javi, his eyes bright and warm and fond.

Javi sits there with his hand over his mouth, astounded. He feels like his chest is filling with air, expanding like a balloon. Yuzu back here, training with him again, like the old days. Like the old days, except with everything new and better between them. The chance they never got before. He doesn’t have to say goodbye or let this go. He can _have_ this.

Yuzu's done it again, given something huge and significant like it was light and easy, and there's no way Javi deserves this. But that's who Yuzu is, and how he shows he cares, and Javi can’t believe he got so lucky that Yuzu cares about _him_.

Javi snaps out of his daze and realizes Yuzu's been talking, asking him a question. "If I’m living here — better? More easy? You could…try?"

"Yes," Javi says, instantly, words spilling out of him. "Yes, Yuzu, please, I want to try. Having you here would be— it’s all I want — I —" He can't even finish the sentence, so he just reaches for Yuzu, pulling him in. Yuzu climbs into his lap, pressing his face into Javi's shoulder, and Javi wraps his arms around him. Javi can feel Yuzu's heart hammering, how Yuzu's faintly shaking, and Javi thinks he's probably shaking too. It doesn't feel real.

"This is what I want," Javi says, as firmly as he can, trying to make it real for both of them. "You and me."

Yuzu sits up, taking Javi's face in his hands. "Good," he says, and leans in, kissing Javi passionately. Javi lets himself sink into it, feeling stronger and more sure with every kiss.

Yuzu still feels tense in Javi’s arms, though, and when he pulls away to catch his breath, Javi sees a little hesitation in his eyes, like he’s worried Javi might not really mean it.

Javi realizes, even after everything they’ve talked about, that there’s still something he’s left unsaid. One last hurdle to clear, one last way to make this real. And he can’t keep it back now, not after Yuzu gave him everything like that.

Javi swallows hard, gathering every scrap of courage he has. He cups Yuzu’s neck, holding him in place so he can look him in the eyes. Yuzu’s lips are pink and kiss-swollen, his expression soft as he looks back at Javi, and suddenly it’s the easiest thing in the world to take the leap.

"I love you, Yuzu," Javi says, and he means it with all his heart.

Yuzu gasps, soft and high. "Really?" he asks. He looks overwhelmed, his eyes huge.

"Really," Javi says, stroking the side of Yuzu's neck with his thumb. He smiles, wanting to help it sink in for Yuzu, and rocks him back and forth gently. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Yuzu's eyes brim, tears spilling out and down his cheeks, and he can only look at Javi for a few seconds before he buries his face in his hands.

Javi’s chest aches. It’s overwhelming, the depth of Yuzu’s feelings, how much he must have longed for Javi to return them. He thinks about their kiss in Japan, the triumphant note in Yuzu’s voice, and he wishes he had figured it out then, that he could have spared Yuzu some of this waiting. But at least he knows now, and he's determined to love Yuzu the way he truly deserves. To be worthy of Yuzu’s love in return, as much as he can be.

Javi rubs Yuzu's back while Yuzu sniffles. “I’m sorry it took me so long,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss Yuzu’s temple. “I promise, I’ll try to make it up to you.”

Yuzu lifts his head at that, wiping at his face with both hands. “You better,” he says in a voice that’s probably meant to be fierce but that mostly just sounds soggy.

Javi laughs out loud, the sound startling both of them.

“Shut up,” Yuzu says, shoving Javi’s shoulder.

Javi just smiles at Yuzu, leaning in again so they can get back to kissing, but Yuzu puts a hand up. "Wait," he says, his voice a little firmer now.

Javi waits, suspended in silence, while Yuzu takes a deep breath.

“I thought — I thought I never hear those word from you," Yuzu says, voice wavering again. He clears his throat a few times. “But, now I finally say what I feeling for a long time." Yuzu shuts his eyes tightly for a second, then opens them again. "I love you too."

Javi can feel his face splitting into a grin. Even already knowing Yuzu loves him, to hear him say it is like sunshine pouring down on him, flooding him with warmth. He wants to hear it a hundred more times, a thousand. Yuzu grins back, and they just sit there smiling at each other for a while, letting this new thing unfold between them.

And as new as it all is, somehow it feels old too, familiar and comfortable. As though everything that happened since they first met was just a stop along the road to this. As though all the encouraging words they’ve ever said to each other, the compliments to each other’s skating, were just poor translations of “I love you, please be mine.” There's still so much to work out, but they'll be working it out together. On the same team, like they've always been.

“I’m so happy,” Yuzu murmurs, like it’s a secret, color high in his face.

Suddenly Javi can’t really see so well, his vision wet and blurred, and he lavishes Yuzu’s neck with kisses, just to let some of these feelings out. “Me too,” he whispers back.

They kiss for a while, firm and warm, and then Javi stands up with Yuzu still in his lap, lifting him easily. Yuzu giggles, clinging to Javi's neck, as Javi carries him into the bedroom ( _their_ bedroom, he can't help thinking). Javi lays Yuzu out on the bed, like a treasure, and tries to say with his body what he's been saying with his words.

Javi thinks, maybe, he could live in this moment for the rest of his life — their bodies intertwined, no more barriers between them. That look in Yuzu's eyes, disbelieving and triumphant and content. The way he sighs out Javi's name as Javi touches him.

And Javi doesn’t feel so afraid anymore, even with all the mistakes he’s made before. He hasn’t always been sure, he hasn’t always known what to do. But now he knows love isn’t just a feeling that pulls you along — it’s more like a skating program. One part emotions, one part hard work, woven together and transformed into something beautiful. And he’s not going to hold anything back or let it fall apart. For this, for Yuzu, he’s going to give it everything he’s got.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: someitems and sophiahelix


End file.
